Breakin' All The Rules
by julian bb
Summary: They're adults now. Or at least they're supposed to be. But sometimes the more things change, the more they stay the same. And people who are meant to be together always find their way in the end. BL & more. Sequel to The Rules of Attraction.
1. Futures So Bright That They Burned Out

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the newly fixed Mac in which I wrote this on…**

**AN: I should not be publishing any new stories. I'd planned to retire from writing. Clearly I have zero follow-through. That said, I did miss the characters from the RoA world and I wanted to revisit them. All the while royally bombing the semi-happy-ending I gave them after college graduation. It starts off slow since I'm re-introducing everyone and how they're living now. Also, this is four years after the last chapter of RoA.**

**Breakin' All The Rules**

Futures So Bright That They Burned Out

**-xx-**

_"Let us go then, you and I,  
When the evening is spread out against the sky"  
—TS Eliot_

**-xx-**

It's a rainy day on the Upper East Side. Hordes of New Yorkers wearing expensive suits seek cover under black umbrellas as the crowd on corner of 53rd and Fifth begins to grow.

The outside of St. Thomas' Episcopalian Church has never been this crowded.

Clayton Evans walks out through the Gothic-styled church doors and immediately flashes blind him. Reporters left and right continue to snap pictures and thrust cameras in his face, shrieking voices pressing for a comment. The voices blur together into incoherent mumbling.

The handsome brunette pulls out his Ray-Bans and slides them on to shield his cobalt-blue eyes. His free arm wraps around Brooklyn Davis' shoulders, and the twosome finally shoves their way out of the mosh pit and sneak inside the safety of the large limousine.

"Drive." Clay's voice is void of emotion; he merely stares out the window without really seeing anything at all.

Sitting across from them in the limo is Jake Jaglieski in a charcoal suit with a black tie, a briefcase in his lap. "Sorry I missed the service," he says in a polite tone, "We've been circling around for a while. The streets are completely jammed."

Brooke's hands unclip a pin and her chocolate colored locks spill freely down her shoulders. "Fuckin' press hounds," she mutters under her breath. "Won't even back off for a funeral. They have no respect."

Clay clears his throat, "Fuck it, then," he says offhand, "Got the papers for me?"

Jake nods and opens up his briefcase, pulls out a few documents. He's been Clay and Brooke's lawyer for a while now—having such high-profile clients made his firm grow quickly. "I talked everything over with your father's lawyers and everything's in order. You now own the controlling interest in Evans Enterprises."

"Thank you." Clay half-hazardly folded the papers and slid them into the pocket of his all-black, vintage Sy Devore suit—only the best for the funeral. Bradford Evans would've expected nothing less. "Check's already in the mail, Jay."

"Clay, you know you—"

"—it's business, Jake." Clay cuts him off. He rolls down the partition window, "Raoul, take me to Evans Plaza." He slides the partition back up, "I've got an empire to run."

The ride is quiet, not even Brooke being able to break through Clay's thick head.

There's another media horde outside Evans Plaza—big shocker there. "Car's yours for the day." Clay announces before climbing out and disappearing into the crowd.

_All this and the shit hasn't even begun to hit the fan yet_, Brooke thinks. She sighs, focuses on Jake, "Have you talked to Hales, Jay?"

"No." Jake looks away, the subject still uncomfortable for him, "She wasn't there when I dropped off Emma last weekend."

Brooke nods in understanding, but says nothing.

It's still a tough concept to process: Jake Jaglieski and Haley James (formerly James-Jaglieski) are divorced.

It all started when Jake went into his third and final year of law school, when Nicki Smith suddenly made a comeback. With a seven-year-old boy in tow. His name was Dexter Smith-Jaglieski. And as the DNA test soon confirmed, he was Jake's son from his brief stint dating Nicki Smith during junior year of high school.

Haley says that the separation (followed by the divorce) wasn't because of Dexter—because he really _is_ a sweet and bright kid—but, really, no one can deny that having the slutty ex-crazy-bitch-girlfriend from high school make a comeback puts a strain on the marriage.

"And how's Dex?"

"He's doing really good. Birthday party's next week, you're gonna be there, right?"

Brooke nods again, "Yeah. I'll definitely be there." she says with a half smile, "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Good..." Jake mutters, looks down at his hand, "Um, I sent Rae an invite, too. I actually haven't heard from Rae in a while. I think Haley has tried calling her, but she never calls back. Y'know, I'm actually really surprised she didn't show up for this. I mean, I know she and Clay broke it off a while ago, but..." he shakes his head as if snapping out of it, "Anyhoo, have you heard from her lately?"

This time it's Brooke who looks down at her hands, "Yeah, I talk to her from time to time." she answers with what's obviously a forced smile, "She's been really busy. You know, she finished out her internship this year and now she's really into residency. A lot of work."

"Work. Right." Jake clears his throat. "Have you talked to Luke?"

The question makes Brooke glare at Jake, "Not lately." she answers curtly, and Jake knows the conversation is over.

**-xx-**

Clay looks around his father's office—now _his_ office. He'd only ever been here a handful of times when he was a kid entering his teens. Back when his father thought he had potential and wanted to groom him to take over the business.

His hands tucked into his pants' pockets, he eyes the City through the glass. It's all his now. Somewhat hesitantly, he sits down on his father's desk chair—now _his_ chair—and leans back.

Hannah, his father's secretary—_his _secretary now—eyes him sympathetically as she says, "You might want to turn on the TV, Mr. Evans." She suggests with a pitying smile, "There's something you should see."

"Right," Clay answers, reaches for the remote mechanically, "And Hannah," the woman turns around to face him, "Call me Clay. Mr. Evans was my father. And he's dead now."

Clay stands up and moves to stand in front of the large plasma TV. He turns it on, and tucks his hands in his pants' pockets once more, watching the news special.

_'As the city of New York mourns the loss of Bradford Evans, the business world focuses its eyes on his only heir and son, Clayton Evans._

_Clayton Evans has just inherited full control of Evans Enterprises making him one of the youngest billionaires in New York City. The company controls land in 3 continents, and it is well known for its variety of investments ranging from hotels to the renowned Evans Publications. Now, the question that remains: will his Bradford Evans' empire crumble in Clayton Evans hands or will it flourish?_

_The reigning Evans is not new to running his own business. Upon graduating Summa Cum Laude from Duke University and signing on to represent NBA All-Star Nathaniel Scott with ISC, he broke out and started his own agency, the now internationally renowned Fortitude._

_However, his personal history does leave something to be desired. His notorious and oftentimes tumultuous relationship with Brooklyn Davis has made the headlines on more than one occasion. Though both refuse to comment further on it, they've gone on record numerous times claiming that their friendship is a purely platonic one. Nonetheless, since his teens he's been dubbed one of New York City's most infamous billionaire playboys_.'

The "news special" comes accompanied by plenty of pictures—Clay and Nate with their Sigma Chi ties and khakis looking far more serious than they'd ever been in college, Clay's Duke graduation picture, Clay and Brooke downing shots at an unnamed club, followed by multiple tabloid covers of Clay surrounded by multiple women. Various headlines read: EVANS' FLAVOR OF THE WEEK, PLAYBOY CAUGHT REDHANDED, PARTY BOY EVANS, WILL HE EVER SETTLE DOWN?

'_His friendship with multiple other entrepreneurs is also much rumored about by the press. Among his most notable acquaintances are: heir to Davis International Junior Davis, and CEO of Epos Productions Logan Echolls._

_Furthermore, the fictional character 'Clark Evers' from the New York Times bestseller _Impulse_ is believed to be based on Clayton Evans himself. When pressed, author Lucas Scott has commented that all of his characters are fictional and any similarities are coincidental._

_While there's no doubt that Clayton Evans has always thrived under the spotlight, his business ventures always successful, the question still remains: is he serious enough to take on the empire his father entrusted him and carry on his legacy? Or will he crash and burn under the pressure?_'

"You shouldn't watch that crap," Nathaniel Scott's voice booms from the office's doorway, "It'll warp your brain, man."

Clay smiles at the sight of his best friend, "Hey, Nate,"

"C'mere, dude," Nate walks towards him and greets him with a half-hug, "I'm sorry I'm late. Had a hard time getting a plane out."

Clay grins his best lopsided grin, "I can't believe you're here, man." he says, "You didn't have to come."

"Your old man's dead, Clay." Nate says seriously, though there's empathy in his blue eyes, "You just put him in the ground. Friends show up. It's what we do."

Clay sighs, pauses for a beat, "Wanna Scotch?"

"Macallan?"

"You know me. Only the best, dude."

Nate smirks, "Bring it."

**-xx-**

Lucas Scott is currently sitting on a much-too-expensive couch in the luxurious lobby of the Imperial. The brooder rolls up the sleeves of his Hugo Boss shirt, and glances at his watch.

_Brooke should be back already_, he thinks.

Anxious fingers run through short flaxen locks of hair. The author finds himself to be fatally tired, the leftover of a hangover headache pounding on his fever-ridden temples. "Fuckin' hell..." he mutters to himself.

Just like every time he stops by the prestigious hotel Brooklyn Davis calls home, he wonders how the fuck did they end up like this?

Everything seemed so..._possible_ when they'd graduated Duke. Brooke eradicated herself from the family business (Davis International), and moved on to form Davis Enterprises and its subsidiary Clothes-Over-Bros flourished into a multi-million dollar franchise.

Lucas' first two books made it onto the New York Times' Best Seller List—_Impulse_ was even being turned into a movie—and he'd successfully ventured into his new role as producer and screenplay writer.

They were both considered A-list celebrities in their own rights.

Sometimes Lucas wished he could go back in time a burn the first draft of _Impulse _he'd written in his bedroom at the Phi Delta Theta frat house. But then there were times he didn't. That book had singlehandedly launched his career with a bang.

New York Times said: It's Easton Ellis with slightly more humane characters; Times Magazine called it: A voice for the new college generation.

But for Brooke Davis it was their wild college years immortalized on paper and publicized for the whole world to read.

And then suddenly their relationship was a threesome: Brooke, Luke and the paparazzi. The screaming and broken property came soon after, followed by a turbulent break-up.

A familiar voice pulls him out of his introspection. "Hey, Dex, any messages?"

Navy-blue eyes focus on the petite brunette in her Chanel little black dress, just tasteful enough for a funeral and just sexy enough for Brooke Davis. Her matching five-inch Manolo Blahnik heels are in her left hand, and her right hand slides the dark Gucci shades to push her chocolate locks of hair out of her face.

The concierge shakes his head, "No messages, Ms. Davis," he answers succinctly, "But you do have a visitor." he tilts his head subtly towards Lucas.

"Fuckin' hell," the brunette mutters, braces herself for the fight—because inevitably it will be a fight.

Lucas stands up, slides his hands into his pants' pockets, "How's Evans doing?"

"Like you care." Brooke answers dismissively as she heads towards the elevator. Despite the many things that had changed in the last few years, Lucas and Clay had never really learned to get along.

Lucas doesn't let this deter him—he's used to the hostility by now. "His father just fuckin' _died_." he replies, following her into the elevator. He grips her arm and spins her around to face him, her body pulled close to his, "I'm not a complete insensitive jackass."

It still sends shivers down her spine, being pressed up against him. "Let go." she orders, "You're _hurting_ me."

Lucas licks his lips, loosens up the grip. "I'm sorry." he says, steps back, "Look, I'm not here to fight—"

"Jesus, you still _reek_ of last night's Scotch!" Brooke cuts him off.

Lucas rolls his eyes, "Oh, will you come off it!" he snaps, rubs his forehead, "Look, I am just here to see him."

It's Brooke's turn to roll her eyes, "And I've told you to stop popping up whenever you feel like it!" she snaps back. "You don't get to see him."

"It's my goddamn kid!" Lucas yells, slams a fist against the paneling of the elevator. "You don't get to push me out of his life."

Brooke doesn't back down, "He is _my_ son," she growls, shoves him away from her, "And I will do whatever I need to in order to protect him!"

"Yeah, well, a boy needs his father!" Lucas fights back, "He's just a baby now, and I will not have him grow up not knowing me."

Brooke glares at him, knows there's no taking it back once she says it. But she says it anyways. "What makes you think he's even _yours_?" she hisses venomously.


	2. Salt Meets Wound

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the newly fixed Mac in which I wrote this on…**

**AN: Majorly psyched that ya'll are still interested in the world of RoA. Yes, I know I totally bombed pretty much every relationship. Hope ya like this new story, too. Read on, dudes.**

**Breakin' All The Rules**

Salt Meets Wound

**-xx-**

_"I've said it so many times:_

_I will change my ways—_

_No, never mind._

_God knows I've tried._

_Call me a sinner, call me a saint._

_Tell me it's over,_

_I'll still love you the same._

_Call me your favorite, call me the worst._

_Tell me it's over,_

_I don't want you to hurt."_

_—Shinedown_

**-xx-**

"What makes you think he's even _yours_?"

The words hit Lucas like a ton of bricks, and for a second he's paralyzed.

And then he snaps out of it, follows Brooke out of the elevator and into the penthouse. "_What_ did you just say?" his fists ball up.

"You heard me, I didn't stutter." Brooke says curtly, continues walking towards the living room, "Hey, Vanessa," she puts on a polite smile, "Thanks for filling in on such short notice. Is he okay?"

Vanessa, the babysitter, nods, "Yeah, Ms. D." she answers, "Been sleeping since lunch. Perfect angel."

"Thank you. Cash is on the counter." The teen feels the building up tension, grabs her payment for the day's work and hurries on out of there.

Lucas steps closer to Brooke, "Hey! Conversation _not_ over," he says, "What the fuck did you mean by that?"

"I meant that we weren't even _together_ when I got pregnant—"

"—we were having sex,"

"_ONCE_!" Brooke cuts him off again, harshly pokes his chest with her index finger, "One time. One slip. Your name's not even on the birth certificate."

Lucas slaps her hand away, "STOP!" he grips her arms tightly, "Stop! Okay, don't say that! I'm his father! I know I am! Just stop lying! I know you wouldn't do that to me!"

Brooke struggles against the blonde's hold, "Let me go, you jackass!"

"I'm not lettin' go until you take it back!" Lucas growls, shakes her, "C'mon! You wouldn't do that to me! You wouldn't do that to _us_!"

Brooke's dainty hands fight to push him off, her fingernails dig into his arms painfully, "There_ is_ no us!" she shrieks, "You made sure of that when you published that damn book! Okay, _you_ ruined us!"

SLAP! Her hand connects with his scruffy cheek brusquely, but Lucas continues undeterred, "Jesus, when are you gonna stop _punishing_ me!" he yells in anger.

"FUCKIN' PUT ME _DOWN_!"

Their fight is cut off by a sudden loud wailing. In his crib, the three-month-old is now awake and crying up a storm.

Lucas immediately lets the tiny brunette go. He follows her as she rushes towards the crib, cradles the baby boy in her arms, "Sshh," she coos, "It's okay, baby, Mommy's here,"

Watching the scene feels like someone's just punched all the air out of him—he can't _breathe_. He and Brooke had been apart for a year now (when it became clear that at the rate they were going they'd both end up out of vases and plates and any other breakable objects to throw at each other's heads whenever they fought).

And there'd been that one night stand almost twelve months ago.

Lucas ended up finding out Brooke was pregnant from the tabloids. The brunette hadn't even called to tell him she was in labor. His time with his son had been severely limited, and that was putting it mildly.

But now Brooke was saying that Alex wasn't his.

One thing's for sure, there is very little of Lucas Scott in the boy: he has his mother's dark chocolate-colored locks and perfect alabaster skin, and there's no trace of the family defect (an all too quaint nickname for HCM).

But there's something that's all Scott: Alex has navy-blue eyes—just like his father. And when Lucas stares into them he just _knows_.

Jackson Alexander Davis is his son. He has to be.

"That is my son." Lucas says through gritted teeth, "And I'll do whatever I have to do to prove it. You listenin' to me? I'll get a damn DNA test—"

"—you have no grounds for a DNA test." Brooke hisses, holds her baby closer to her chest, "Now get the hell out before I call security so they can drag your ass out of here."

And just knowing that his son is there, and that he's awake is enough for Lucas to get some self-control and step down. "Fine. I'll go." he relents, "But this isn't over, Brooke."

The blonde author pounds the elevator button, slams his fist against the wall.

The doors open to reveal Nathan Scott. "Hey, man," Nate greets, surprised to sun into his brother, "How're you?"

Lucas grins at the sight of his brother, "Hey, Nate," he greets, "What're you doin' here?"

"I came 'cause of everything with Clay's dad, wanted to drop in and visit B." Nate says, "I haven't even met the kid yet."

Lucas scoffs, "Yeah, good luck with that," he presses the lobby button.

"Whoa, what's goin' on, Luke?" Nate asks, furrows his brow.

"Brooke's a miserable bitch, _that_'s what's going on." Lucas sneers, "Stop by my place later, we'll catch up." And with that, the elevator doors close.

Nate pauses for a second, shakes his head, "Jeez, the _fuck_ was that all about?" Then he walks into the penthouse, shrugs off his coat, "Brooklyn Davis! Come out, come out wherever you are."

Brooke walks out of her bedroom, baby still in her arms. "Nathan Scott!" she exclaims, clearly surprised to find him in her apartment, "Oh my god!"

"Oh my god!" Nate shrieks mockingly, "Get over here," he pulls her in for a hug, careful not to squash the baby, "Holy shit, you really are a mother now."

Brooke flashes him a dimpled smile, "Yes, I am," she exclaims proudly.

"Hey, buddy," Nate coos, "you're pretty big, aren't ya? Gonna make a hell of a basketball player, man," he cuts his eyes back to the tiny brunette, "What's his name?"

"His name's Jackson, though Luke calls him Alex all the time." Brooke answers, walks off towards her bedroom, "I swear he does it only to annoy me."

Nate frowns, "Well, is it Jackson or is it Alex?" he asks confused.

"Jackson Alexander Davis." Brooke walks out of her bedroom in her ratty old Duke sweatshirt and a pair of short-shorts, her hands pulling her hair into a messy bun.

Nate rolls his eyes, "Jax it is, little man," he tells the baby, sets him back down in his crib, "It's really always halfway with you guys." he chuckles, shakes his head, "I swear you two idiots will still fight over the stupidest things." he says, "So. Gotta ask, what'd you do to Luke? He was _fuming_."

Brooke sighs, her lips pouting, "I...may have implied that he's not the father..." she mutters, crashes next to him on the couch.

"Okay, uh," Nate furrows his brow, "so before I get too attached, I'm gonna ask, is this my nephew?"

"Y-yeah. Yes. Yes. Of course it is." Brooke assures him, "Jeez, what kind of slut do you think I am?"

Nate winces, Brooke still packs a hell of an arm punch, "Well, then, why would you tell him that it isn't?"

"I never _told_ him. I _implied_ it." Brooke clarifies as if the distinction makes some big difference.

"What'd you go and do that for? Y'know how he gets."

"'Cause I was pissed off, and he had the nerve to show up here _hungover_," Brooke shrugs a shoulder, "Then it kind of slipped out."

"And you decided to punish him by _implying_ that his son isn't in fact his son? Wow." Nate chuckles, shakes his head, "Luke was right—you really _are_ a miserable bitch." he teases.

Brooke punches his arm again, "Shut up!" she shrieks, "Enough about me. Tell me about you. I've seen you play on ESPN. You're doing pretty good, 3 rings in four years, and a reputation as NBA's biggest playboy."

"Also as the Lakers' best point guard," Nate chimes in with a smirk, "No need to always focus on the bad stuff. Y'know I'm doing good, B. I don't see you guys as much as I want to, but other than that I'm living the dream. This was always the plan. I rock it in the NBA, you take over the fashion world, Clay kicks ass at the business world, and Rae's off being the next Doogie Howser. That was the dream, right?"

Brooke lets out a chuckle and then bursts out laughing. "Yes. I'm a single mom and Clay's father has just died and Rae's...she's in L.A. and _you_ are still incapable of committing to anyone other than yourself. Yes. We really are living the dream here."

Nate wraps an arm around the brunette's shoulders, "Always glass half-empty with you, isn't it?" he presses a kiss to the top of her head. "I've missed ya, Sunshine." he admits.

"I've missed you, too, Moody," Brooke says, rests her head against his shoulder, "Where are you staying anyways?"

"Well, basketball season's over. I think I'm gonna stay in town for a while." Nate shrugs, "The Imperial always has a room for NBA's bad boy."

"You know I have a spare room here."

"Thanks for the offer, B." Nate smirks, rubs the back of his head, "But, uh, I got a few of the Knicks' cheerleaders stopping by for a party later."

Brooke scoffs, slaps his chest playfully, "Four years after college and you are still whoring it up with anything in a cheer skirt."

"I'm not even gonna comment on that," Nate smirks, "Actually, before I leave I wanted to talk to you about the Clay situation."

Brooke immediately tenses up, "I think he's doing pretty well, all things considered."

"Look, I get that you're Clay's ultimate soul mate and all that crap so you think you know him better than anyone else, but trust me on this." Nate says seriously, "He's in deep shit here. Daddy's dead and buried, he never hugged Clay enough, and now every channel and tabloid is bashing him and taking bets on how long it'll be until he tanks Evans Enterprises."

Brooke leans forward, elbows resting on her knees, head cradled in her hands. She knows Clay isn't handling things very well. She just doesn't know what to do about it. And she's not used to not knowing, not when it comes to Clay. "Well, what do you propose we do about it, Dr. Phil?"

Nate leans forward, "I think it's time to call in Red."

"Seriously. Rachel?" Brooke sighs, "They haven't talked in over two years, what's she gonna do?"

"I don't know. Honestly, I'm a little worried right now. Jay and Hales got a divorce—and he's got a _bastard_ kid! You and Luke are going at it 'cause you're...well, you're Brooke and Luke, and that's just what you two _do_. Rae's totally disconnected—I call, I text, I send her tickets to games—_nothing_. She just never shows. We should be happy but everyone's buried in too many fuckin' issues to enjoy any of it." Nate says calmly, "I'm serious, B.—Clay's in it deep, and we need the A-Team for this. You know, the Fantastic Four: Dimples, Moody, Freckles, and Dopey."

Brooke grins at the old nicknames, "Sometimes I think you romanticize those times a little too much."

"I don't." Nate answers with certainty. "We all fucked up a lot during the college years—hell, there's even a movie coming out soon to immortalize it. But you, me, Red and Clay? We're the best thing any of us ever did in college. You three are my best friends. And I'd never have made to where I am today without you guys. That's not romanticising things, that's just a fact."

Brooke smiles a dimpled smile, "Looks who's getting all sentimental all of a sudden,"

Nate rolls his eyes, "Don't change the subject," he says, "We were talking about Rae. I know she's out there being all kick-ass doctor and everything, but she should come down here. We need her..._Clay_ needs her."

"Um," Brooke licks her lips, "you haven't talked to Rae at all?"

"I don't know, she returns my calls maybe once a month. Las time she told me I need to raise my hands on D, and that at least I'm pretty clutch. But I never see her." Nate's navy-blue eyes narrow as he catches a glint in the brunette's eyes, "Oh—you _know_ something." he's sure of it. "You do. You _know _something. What do you know? And don't lie. I know you fly down to see her at least once a month. What's she hiding?"

"Nate–"

"_Brooke_." Nate cuts her off with a serious tone, "Don't BS me right now. Tell me what's goin' on."

Brooke opens her mouth then closes it, she shrugs, "I can't." she sighs, "I promised, Nate."

"B., it's _me,_" Nate says, "What can't you tell me?"

"Trust me. There's some things you don't want to know." Brooke shakes her head, "There's some things you _can_'t know."

Nate furrows his brow, focuses on his hands. Normally he doesn't worry about stuff. But when _Brooke_'s worried—when it's about Rachel and Brooke's being _this_ serious—Nate knows it must be something pretty fuckin' big.

**-xx-**

The former James-Jaglieski house in Hartford, Connecticut feels a little empty nowadays. They'd moved there after Jake finished law school, when they were still trying to work their marriage out. Haley had finished her master's degree during their stay in NoCal. She'd quit teaching high school English when she managed to land a prestigious teaching job in the English Department at Yale University.

Haley James is officially running behind schedule now. "Emma!" she calls out, "C'mon, I'm running late today, hon. We need to move it or I'm not gonna make my faculty meeting." she gathers up papers from her home office and haphazardly throws them in her purse. "Em, I mean it. Get down here."

The six-year-old comes skipping down the stairs, long blonde hair a mess, well-worn Chuck Taylors and a CoB t-shirt her godmother had designed for her last birthday. "I'm here, Mom," Emma James-Jaglieski says, "I'm ready. Lets go."

"Good, sweets," Haley presses a kiss to the top of her daughter's head, "You have everything you need for Dad's place—clothes, books—everything?"

Emma nods, "Yes, Mom." she shrugs, "I'm used to it now."

Haley swallows down the gulp that forms at her throat. It's been less than a year and she still isn't used to idea that Jake isn't her husband anymore. She's not Haley James-Jaglieski anymore.

She's not a _wife_ anymore—she's reminded of the fact every time she notices the ring-line on the fourth finger of her left hand where her wedding ring used to be.

She's a divorcé now.

Some days she wonders how they let it get this bad.

But then she realizes she has to work, has to take care of her daughter, and cannot afford to waste time wondering what-ifs and shoulda-coulda-woulda. What's done is done.

"I know, baby. Okay, I know it sucks and it's been a tough couple of months, but...your Dad and I are trying—"

"—Mom, we're gonna be late." Emma is annoyingly smart and perceptive for her age.

Haley sighs, "Right." she nods, "Lets go, hon."

The mother and daughter buckle up into the Mazda CX-5 and start the drive down to New Haven, on a good day it takes a little under forty minutes. As previously arranged, Jake will be picking up Emma at Yale on his way back from the city.

The drive is quiet, an oldies station softly playing classic rock songs barely audible in the background. "I think your Aunt Brooke is gonna stop by tomorrow with Jackson."

Emma stares out the window, "I miss her." she says, "And I miss Aunt Rae, too."

"I know, babe," Haley answers, grips the steering wheel a little tighter. The redhead's been pretty MIA for a while now. Brooke tells her that they talk, and she knows the brunette heads down to LA at least once a month to check in on her best friend, but Haley hasn't talked to Rachel in months.

The redhead's pretty good at keeping up with Emma, though. She emails, sends gifts on birthdays and holidays. Still, her absence is palpable. Brooke's done a much better job at keeping in touch and showing up on a regular basis.

It's hard. And it truly was easier when they were just living a few blocks away from each and the biggest issue was wether or not they won the next game and made it onto the playoffs.

Divorce. Splitting custody of a kid. Illegitimate children and ex-girlfriends popping up.

Yeah, those were much more complicated issues to deal with.

**-xx-**

Jake uses his spare key to let himself into Lucas Scott's loft just off 40 East and 83th Street. "Luke," he calls out, "You here? I got the contracts you wanted."

Jake Jaglieski had opened his very own law firm with Sam Winchester in Hartford shortly after they'd graduated from Stanford Law. Hartford was close enough to New York for work, but far away enough so that Emma (and Dexter) could have a normal suburban lifestyle he and Haley had envisioned for their family.

Veritas Law Firm's client list grew fast enough. From big, well-renowned companies such as Davis Enterprises and Clothes-Over-Bro's, Fortitude, Epos Productions, Red Bedroom Records to independent celebrity clients such as Lakers' point guard Nate Scott, Steelers' QB Owen Morello and best-selling author Lucas Scott.

"Upstairs," calls out Lucas, his voice oddly detached.

"Right," Jake mutters to himself, takes off his suit's jacket. He scoffs at the sight: Lucas in last night's clothes standing over the bar pouring himself what Jake is certain isn't his first glass of Scotch for the day. "Shit, Luke. Isn't it a little early?"

Lucas turns around, the famous Scott-smirk playing on his lips, "Dropped in to see Brooke today," he hands his friend a glass of Dalmore neat. "She told me the kid isn't mine."

After a pause, Jake grabs the glass, "Of course she did," he says with a resigned tone. Jake's hands fiddle to pull off his black tie—he still hates ties, can't tie them properly. Haley used to do that part, she'd slap his hands off the tie playfully and easily knot up the garment, then she pressed a quick kiss to his lips when she was done. He shakes it off, sips the strong liquor—he doesn't wince at the taste anymore. "Is that a real possibility?" He asks offhand, his mind already running through a list of all the legal actions available for both Brooke and Lucas.

Lucas downs the glass in a single gulp, "Alex is mine. He has to be." he says, "I'd know if he weren't my kid."

"You need to pull it together, Luke." Jake says seriously, "Jesus, you're still in last night's clothes, you're drinking every other day—how do you ever expect to fix things up with Brooke this way?"

Lucas' eyes narrow, "Like you're some expert? Look how shitty your marriage ended up," he hisses.

"Go to hell, Lucas." Jake shoots back, jumps up and gets in Lucas' face. "I'm trying to look out for you!" he tells him, grips the collar of his shirt, "You're a fuckin' mess, man."

Lucas slaps his hands off, pushes him away, "Ya think!" he shouts, "Brooke doesn't want anything to do with me! And I can't take any of it back, Jay. The book, the movie—it's all FUCKIN' DONE! It's out there, and I can't take it back! And I don't _want_ to take it back!" his hands run through his messy blonde locks and he slams the empty glass against a wall, "I got a kid she won't let me see—which, now, incidentally may or may not be mine!" he drops to the floor, back resting against the wall. "I don't know what to do, Jay..." he mutters sadly.

"Y'need to get your shit together, Luke," Jake says, extends his hand to Lucas and pulls him up to his feet, "One day at a time. And show Brooke that you _are_ a good responsible father. I'm pretty sure that's all she's waiting for."

Lucas jerks his head towards the next room and flicks on the light: a large white crib with a little basketball mobile hanging above it, changing table, a rocking chair, blue walls with 'Jackson' painted right above the crib, and an old picture of Brooke and Lucas on the bed stand that holds a baby monitor, diapers, wipes, blankets and a few outfits. "I'm trying."

"It's good," Jake says, tucks his hands into his pants' pockets, "C'mon, I'm picking up Emma soon. You can see Haley and you can crash with me tonight. A night away from the city parties and the bar will do you good."

Lucas nods, "Thanks, Jay,"

Jake licks his lips, presses a halting hand to Lucas' chest, "If you ever talk about my marriage like that again, I swear to God I'll end you, Lucas." he says harshly, "I'm dead serious right now."

Lucas nods in understanding, "I'm sorry." he says sincerely, "I was out of line."

And he's really not in a position to lose his best friend right now.

**-xx-**

The click-clack of Brooke Davis' heels fill the empty reception of Evans Plaza. Hannah, the secretary, only smiles politely as the tiny brunette pushes the Bugaboo Cameleon Stroller into Clayton Evans' new office. It may be Clay's first day as the boss, but everyone knows that Brooke and Clay come as a package deal.

"Hey, Boss," Brooke greets as she takes a seat across the desk, parks the stroller next to her. She notes the half-empty bottle of Macallan among the many stacks of papers scattered across the large Parmian desk. "How you holding up, C.?"

Clay barely glances up from his computer, "Fine. Good. Busy." he answers automatically, "There's a lot to catch up on."

"I'd imagine..." Brooke answers quietly, wonders if his bloodshot eyes are from drinking or crying or god knows what else. She sighs, "I saw the 'special program'. Want to talk about it?"

"A bunch of bullshit like always. I'm used to it."

Brooke stands up, closes the laptop and locks eyes with Clay, "I'm concerned here, Clay," she says seriously, "I just want to make sure you're all right. I want to help you, okay?"

"You want to help, Brooke? Then shut the fuck up about it. Okay, I don't want to _talk_ about it. I don't want to _think_ about it. I just want to go to work. And it looks like I've got it cut out for me." Clay shakes his head, sighs, "You can't help me with this one, Dimples. You can't."

And even after all these years, Brooke can still read the pain in his eyes, can understand what it is he needs from her right now. "All right. Fine." she says, puts on a bright smile, "Um, how're you handling things at Fortitude? Anything you need there?"

"I got Wilke running point on things." Clay says with a raspy tone, "I think Preppy can handle it. I trained him well."

Before Brooke can answer, Jackson commands attention by letting out a loud wail. Clay cracks a grin and walks over to the stroller. He kneels in front of it and picks up his godson out of the stroller, "Jackie Boy!" he greets, "You're gettin' pretty big, Jax." It's the first time Brooke's seen him smile in the last few days and a brief sense of relief washes over her.

"How're things with Luke goin'?" Clay asks as he blows a raspberry on Jackson's belly and elicits a fit of giggles from the baby.

Brooke lets out a long sigh, runs her fingers through her messy chocolate locks, "We had it out today. _Again_." she shakes her head, "He's such a fucking mess right now, and...I don't know. I don't know if I trust him. I don't know if I can depend on him. I just don't know anymore."

"Y'know I still don't like the guy, but...it's not his fault shit got so out of hand." Clay says with a shrug, "No one thought the book would spur on so much gossip and drama."

Brooke rolls her eyes, "It's not just about the mess that came from the stupid novel." she says, "He's fucked up right now. He popped over to see Jax today and he still reeked of yesterday's booze. If it's ever gonna work, Lucas needs to get his shit together."

"There was a time not so long ago when _we_ didn't have our shit together." Clay says matter-of-factly, "In fact, I'm pretty sure I still don't."

"Well, things change when you have a kid," Brooke takes Jackson in her arms, kisses the top of his head, "And you're doing all right, all things considered."

Clay grins his charming, lopsided grin, "Thanks for that, Dimples," he says, "You're doing good. You're a good Mom. Not that it counts for much coming from me, but..."

"Hey," Brooke says, her voice serious. She grabs his chin, forces him to look at her, "It counts for everything. You're my family."

"Always."

"Always." Brooke holds his hand, winks at him, "Are you gonna be all right alone? You can crash at mine tonight."

Clay presses a soft kiss to her forehead, pulls her in for a hug, "Not tonight, B." he says, "Nate invited me out."

"Aw." Brooke rolls her eyes, "The Knicks' cheerleaders."

Clay shrugs, "Old habits die hard."

Brooke knows Nate means well, wants to help his friend keep his mind off things. "Be careful, all right?" But she also knows it can be dangerous to slide back into old patterns.

"You got it." Clay nods, "C'mon, I'll drop you guys off at the Imperial on the way."

Brooke flashes him a smile and follows him, realizes that Nate did have a point earlier: it's time to bring in the A-Team.

**-xx-**

It's a warm day in Los Angeles, California. Inside St. Ambrose Hospital, Rachel Gatina stands in her blue scrubs, chart in hand as she jots down her final notes before calling it a day.

"Doin' good," Dr. Charlotte King, Chief of Staff, compliments, "For a rookie."

Rachel smirks, "It's in the genes, I guess," she says easily.

Despite some unplanned complications, Rachel had made it through med school in record time. The redhead had even graduated with honors.

"Are you gonna drop by the office?"

Rachel nods, ties her hair up in a makeshift ponytail. "Yeah, gotta change, and then I'm heading over there."

"Alright," Charlotte smiles, "I'll see you later, then."

"Sure thing," Rachel winks, "See ya, Char."

The redhead gets into her Mercedes-Benz ML63 AMG and drives onto Ocean Avenue, parks in front of Seaside Health & Wellness and walks into the building, stopping at the fourth floor.

Amelia Gatina stands in her office pacing back and forth, bouncing a two-year-old in her arms.

"Hey, Aunt Amy," greets Rachel as she steps into the wide office, "He behave today?"

Amelia flashes her niece a smile, "Yes," she answers, "Christopher always behaves. I'd expect nothing less from my gorgeous nephew." she coos, sets the kid down on his play mat. "Ya kick ass today?"

"That is the Gatina way, is it not," Rachel quips, picks the kid up and plops down on one of the couches.

Amelia smirks, "Got that right, kid,"

A redhead in an expensive Dolce & Gabana dress and Christian Louboutin peep toe pumps walks in, "Hey, honey," Dr. Addison Montgomery greets, "How was your day?"

"It was really good. Scrubbed in on three surgeries." Rachel answers—she's been living in LA for two years now, and her relationship with her mother is a little less tense now.

Addison smiles, "Yeah? Charlotte tells me you're doing great." she says, after a beat she adds, "I'm proud of you."

For as long as Rachel can remember, she's been waiting for her mother to say that. It feels surreal to hear it now. "Thanks, Mommy." Her voice sounds much younger when she says it, and her mother pulls her in for a hug. Awkward, but definitely nice.

Then Addison clears her throat, "I gotta go. I have one last patient waiting." she says as she grabs her coffee cup, "But wait for me before you leave?" Rachel nods, "All right."

Amelia watches the exchange with an amused smirk. "Kid," she tells Rachel with a serious tone, "take it from me: all nighters should be the mark of your 20s. I can watch Chris—hell, a night in would probably do me good. But some fun won't kill you. You're practically living here and the hospital."

Rachel flashes her a grateful smile, "I'm fine, Aunt Amy. Really."

"Jeez, you should be more than fine!" Amelia exclaims, "You got through med school in record time—with a_ baby_, mind you—and you're the rockstar of your residency. I thought you were supposed to be a wild-child, at least that's what your father always told me. But all you do is work and take care of Chris, and that's good and all. But, I mean, when was the last time you got _laid_?"

Rachel's eyes widened ,"Aunt Amy," she exclaims shaking her head, "_filter_!"

Amelia rolls her eyes, "I'm so tired of everybody telling me to filter all the time." she says as she takes Chris out of Rachel's arms.

"Start doing it and then maybe people will stop telling you," Rachel jests as she pulls her ringing iPhone from her purse. The screen flashes BROOKE, and she hits the 'answer' button. "Hey, slut," she greets, "I just got off a killer shift. How're you doing?"

"_I need you to come back, Rachel._"

Rachel frowns, "What?" she asks, willing herself to have heard her best friend wrong.

"_You heard me. Clay's father is dead, and he's...he's struggling. And Nate's back in town. He knows I'm hiding something from him._" Brooke sighs, "_And I'm a _Mom_, and you haven't even met your nephew yet, and _I_ need you. I-I know you're busy working, but I need you to show up. We need you here. And... You need to _tell_ him, Rae. You need to tell him about Christopher._"

Rachel's hand grips her cell phone tighter, "Don't go there, Brooke."

"_He deserves to know._"

A scoff passes through the redhead's lips, "You're really one to talk, B. I may be far away, but that doesn't mean I don't know about your baby daddy drama."

"_It's not about my issues, Rae. You know that. Shit's really starting to hit the fan here. I can't keep lying anymore. It doesn't...it doesn't feel right. Please come home, Rachel._" Brooke pauses for a beat, "_Clay needs you here... _I_ need you here_."

Rachel takes a deep breath, "I gotta go."

"_Rae—_"

"I'll call you later." And with that Rachel hits the 'end' button on the call.

Amelia notices the disturbed look on her niece's face, "Everything okay, kid?"

Rachel licks her lips, stares at the phone in her hands and then glances at her son. "I have to go." she says suddenly, "I have to go back. I have to go to New York."


	3. Equilibrium

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the newly fixed Mac in which I wrote this on…**

**Breakin' All The Rules**

Equilibrium

**-xx-**

_Listen, listen:  
_

_I would take a whisper,_

_If that's all you had to give.  
_

_But it isn't, is it?_

_You could come and save me and,_

_Try to chase the crazy right out of my head._

_—Jason Walker_

**-xx-**

Rachel Gatina walks through JFK Airport, holding her suitcase with one hand and Christopher's hand with the other. The pair of Seven jeans hug the redhead's curves in all the right places and she easily catches the attention of most of the male population currently at baggage claim.

But these days there's only one little man who commands all her attention.

"Up," demands Christopher as he tugs his mother's hand, "Up, Mommy, up!"

Rachel looks at him, plans to say that he's a big boy, but one look into those big _blue blue blue_ eyes and she caves, picks him up against her hip. "Oh, god, you're gonna be one of _those guys_, aren't you?" she says more to herself than to her two-year-old, "You're gonna parade a new girl in for every day of the week and they're just gonna love you because of the smirky grin and the pretty blue eyes, aren't they?"

The redhead easily hails a cab—it hasn't been _that_ long since she's been in the city, she still remembers how it all works. "West 58th street, the Imperial hotel."

Rachel rests her head against the cool glass window and glances at the city speeding by. "Welcome home, Rae," she whispers to herself. "Brace yourself."

**-xx-**

Brooke paces around her penthouse apartment, bounces the crying baby in her arms, "Jax, baby, please calm down for mommy," she begs her son, "Please, pretty please," She knows the begging won't work. It didn't work on Emma, it didn't work on Chris and it apparently does not work with Jax, either.

The elevator doors open up to reveal Rachel and Christopher. A dimpled smile spreads across the brunette's lips. "Rach! C-Robb!"

The redhead drops her bags, "You're babysitting today," she announces as way of greeting.

Christopher jumps out of his mother's arms and runs towards Brooke, hugs her legs, "Aunt Bwooke!" he exclaims happily.

"Hey, rockstar," Brooke replies with a wink, "You've gotten so big!"

Rachel takes the baby out of the brunette's arms, gets a good look at him, "Hey, handsome," she coos, swaying him from side to side, "I'm your Aunt Rae, and it is very nice to finally meet you, kid." And looking at this gorgeous baby, a part of her feels incredibly guilty for having missed out on so much.

Jax immediately calms down in Rachel's arms, stares at the redhead with curious eyes.

"Fuck, what're you, the baby whisperer?" Brooke questions, surprised to see Jax finally settle down. "Oops," she cuts her eyes to Chris, lifts him up, "You gonna spend the day with me, C-Robb?" The toddler nods excitedly, "You know, there's a big TV in my room. How 'bout you jump into bed and watch some cartoons while Mommy and I catch up?" At that, Chris runs as fast as his little legs can carry him.

Rachel sets Jax down on his crib, her hands poised at her waist as she sizes up her best friend. Brooke rolls her eyes, "Cut the bullshit and get over here," she says, pulls the redhead into her arms for a hug. It's been months since she last saw her, and she's missed her sister more than anything. "I can't believe you actually came."

A smirk tugs at the redhead's lips, "You needed me," she says, hugs the brunette tighter, "How could I not?" The '_Clay needed me, too_' went unsaid.

They pull apart, head towards the kitchen and sit on the stools, "How're Addison and Amelia doing?" Brooke asks as she pours the coffee.

"They're good," Rachel replies with a smile, looks down to her hands, "How's everyone here holding up?" She already knows the answer.

Brooke raises her eyebrows, gives her an are-you-serious look, "We make do," she answers, an edge in her voice, "We always make do, you know that."

Rachel sips her coffee, licks her lips, "Um, I know you got Jax and everything, but can you watch Chris today?"

"Sure," Brooke nods, "Vanessa's coming in a couple of hours, I'm sure she wouldn't mind one more kid. I'm actually driving down to Hartford today to visit Hales. What're you planning for the day?"

Rachel grabs her purse, "You said Clay needed me." she says, "I figure it's time I drop in on Clay."

"Um, he's probably with Nate. Are you gonna—"

"Not now," Rachel shakes her head, signals the conversation to be over, "I'll see ya later, give Hales a hug for me. It's been a while since I last saw her."

"Yeah, well, you dissappeared, Rae," Brooke says curtly. "You miss things when you're not around." She'd seen her friend, flying down to LA regularly for the last couple of years, but Rachel's absence was always palpable.

The not-so-subtle dig cuts the redhead, but she doesn't show it. "I'm well aware." And with that she disappears down the elevator again.

**-xx-**

Lucas wakes up to the annoying beeping of an alarm clock. He rolls over abruptly and falls off the couch. "Shit..." he mutters, his voice hoarse.

"Mornin', Boozy," greets Jake from the table where he's sitting.

Lucas rubs his eyes, "Right." he says, "Water?"

"And Advil," Jake says, passes him the bottles. "Look alive, dude, you've got a busy day today."

As if on cue, Emma bounces down the stairs still in her PJs. "Uncle Luke, Uncle Luke!" she exclaims excitedly, jumps onto his bare stomach, "Dad says you're taking me out today."

"Ugh," a low groan escapes the brooder's lips, but he manages to put on a smile and nod, "Sure thing, kiddo, I'm yours for the day." Lucas is still putty in the hands of that little girl, that fact hasn't changed.

Jake grins, "It's actually two-for-one day," he starts, "Dexter, get down here, breakfast's ready!"

Dexter Smith-Jaglieski is the next one to come skipping down the stairs: he wears X-Men boxers and a Knicks t-shirt, a pair of headphones hanging from his neck. His floppy black hair falls messily across his forehead, there's a smirk on his lips and a mischievous spark his chestnut-brown eyes—he looks much more like Jake than he does Nicki. "Hey, Dad," he greets, "Mornin', Uncle Lucas,"

"Dex-Man," Lucas high-fives his eight-year-old nephew, "How's it hangin'?"

"Likin' the summer so far," Dexter smirks, "We goin' out today?"

Lucas nods, "You know it," Whenever he's down in Hartford, he takes his niece and nephew out for a fun day—whatever they want. All in all, Lucas Scott is a pretty kick-ass uncle.

"Oy," Jake tousles Dexter's hair and picks Emma off of Lucas, "Go eat your breakfast before it gets cold, rugrats. I made pancakes." With that, they disappear running towards the kitchen. "I made enough for you, too. Look, we're still hammering out the details for the merger with Pearson Hardman, but I should be back early. Make sure they're ready. And remember, _you_'re the adult while I'm not here."

Lucas mock-salutes him, "Got it, C'ptain," he says with an eye-roll, "Relax. Dex and Em are awesome. I can handle 'em."

"Right." Jake smirks, "Just make sure to return my kids to me in their original pristine condition."

**-xx-**

Rachel uses the key that Dexter the concierge had given her to let herself into Clay's suite. The place is a serious sty. It takes her back to their college years, except everything's high-end now. No more six-packs and Jungle Juice.

The living room is littered with empty bottles: Dom, Grey Goose, Patrón, Macallan and seemingly endless cans of Red Bull. The bar seems to have been kicked upside down, something blue in the blender and liquors spilled all over the bar top. A few glasses smashed against the floor, something red staining the marble tiles.

"Jesus..." the redhead whispers to herself.

Nate Scott walks out of the kitchen. He's barefoot, wearing dark Diesel jeans, and he's shirtless, revealing his toned chest. NBA had done Nate good. "Hey, Scott," Rachel greets with a smile.

Nate turns startled, grins at the sight, "Rachel?" he says, the disbelief in his voice evident, "No way!" he runs to her, wraps his strong arms around her waist and picks her up, swings her around. "God, I've missed you, Red." he whispers into her red locks of hair.

"Missed you, too, Moody," Rachel replies, presses a kiss to his cheek. "Where's our boy?"

Nate visibly winces, "It's...not good." he says, "I was gonna get B., but I know she's busy with the baby and everything."

Clay Evans is lying face down behind the couch, still wearing the remnants of his vintage Devore suit. His button-down is ripped open and stained red—_blood_. Rachel immediately kneels down next to him, rolls him over. "Clay?" she slaps the sides of his face lightly, careful not to hurt him.

Clay manages to open one eye, the other one too badly bruised. "R-rachel," he mumbles in disbelief, convinced that this must be a dream because he hasn't seen her in almost three years. "Heh, Rachel. Rachel. I-I screwed up. I fucked everything up, Rachel." he pauses to let out a long, pained groan, "My dad's _dead_." Then his heavy eyelids fall closed once more.

"Clay?" It's actually painful to see him like this. Rachel throws his arm around her neck and starts to slowly pull him to his feet, "It's all right. Okay? Are you all right? Come on," Clay barely manages to talk through his busted lip, his face so bruised it doesn't even look like himself. "Aw, Clay, come on," she manages to lug him to the couch, "There we go."

Nate places a few bottles of water on the table across from the pair. "We split up last night. I found him like this this morning." he says, "You sure you have him?" Rachel nods, "I'm gonna jump in the shower, leave you two alone for a while."

Rachel settles on the couch, tucks her legs beneath her body. Clay's curled up alongside her, his head resting on her lap. Everything aches and he feels cold. "Y-y-you, heh, you left me," Clay slurs, the words jumbling together almost incoherently.

"Yeah," Rachel strokes his scruffy face gently, as if he were a child, "I remember."

Clay buries his face in her lap, holds onto her tightly, "But you won't leave me again, right?" he asks like a pleading little boy, "Y-you won't leave this time. You'll stay, right? I'm fucked up, Rachel. I'm sorry. I-I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Rachel's long fingers run softly through his dirty locks, she leans down to press a kiss to his cheek. Right on his bruise. "You're gonna be fine." She knows he wouldn't be saying half this stuff if he weren't so messed up.

Clay closes his eyes, doesn't loosen up his hold on her, "Please don't leave," he mumbles, "I-I think you kept me glued or somethin'." With that he dozes off to sleep once more, dreams of an angel with chocolate colored eyes and long red hair. After all these years, it still feels just like touching fire.

Rachel just stays there with him, his head still on her lap. Delicate fingers trace the contours of his bruised face carefully—he looks older right now: the angles of his face are sharper, the scruff on his cheeks is lighter, the lines of his face are more defined. And for a second she realizes just how much she's missed this boy.

Nate comes out of the shower, his Armani shirt unbuttoned, revealing his chiseled chest, "Are you gonna be alright?" he asks before taking a pull for a bottle of Evian.

Rachel nods, "Yeah. I think I can manage."

"Is _he_ gonna be alright?" Nate figures that Clay is past the point where he can help him. And he's certain that Rachel can take better care of Clay than he ever could.

The redhead purses her lips, steals a final glance at the sleeping boy on her lap, "Yes." she says with a determined tone, "Just help me get him into bed. Then you can take a walk or whatever. I'll take care of him." Nate does as he's told and then leaves the couple alone.

Nate's well aware that Rachel is who Clay wants right now, even if he's too wasted to ask for her.

Rachel takes off Clay's shoes and then his pants, leaves him in his boxers. Then she carefully slides the button-down off his broad shoulders. Her eyebrows kink together when she notices the tattoo below his left pectoral extending down his flank.

A quote:

'_To die would be an awfully  
big adventure_.'

It wasn't there when she last him this naked, almost three years ago, but it doesn't look new, either.

"You've changed." Rachel presses a kiss to his forehead. She glances a the bookshelf and the six books it holds: _Peter Pan_, _The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay, _and the Tucker Max collection. She eenie-meenie-minie-moes to pick one and then settles down into an armchair next to the bed.

**-xx-**

In Hartford, sunlight pours into the living room through the expensive French casement windows. The two mothers sit on opposite couches, glasses of red wine in their hands, and catch up on each other's lives.

"I'm still processing that Rachel is in the city!" Haley exclaims, the surprise evident in her voice. "We need to get together before she jets off back to L.A. It's been way too long. God—when was the last time we were all together? Um, was it that launch party for Fortitude?"

Brooke kinks her eyebrows in thought, "Yes, I think it was," she nods, "Wow. Remember, we took over the entire Plaza Hotel, and you and Jay got a sitter for Em so you got to party like the old days? Feels like a lifetime ago now."

"Yeah. I remember." Haley says, and for half a second a look of nostalgia and sadness and regret and something else she can't quite name cross her features.

But then she shakes it off. "I'm sorry I haven't made it into the city lately. Work's been kicking my ass, I'm redesigning the syllabus and it's turning out to be a long process. I wanted to be at the funeral, but when I talked to Clay he told me not to come. How's he doing with everything?"

Brooke takes a swig from the wine glass, "Um...he's managing as best as he can." she says ambiguously, wants to steer clear of this subject as well, "But it's tough."

"Yeah, I remember when Jake's Dad died he had a really difficult time dealing with everything..." Haley couldn't help it. Jake had been her partner for most of her life—he was the father of her child, they'd grown up together and he was a central character for all the main events of her life. Just as she was to him.

Having a conversation in which his name didn't pop up still proves to be a challenge for the copper-haired mother.

Haley clears her throat, grips the wine glass a little harder, "I just know it's always hard."

"Yeah," Brooke pauses for a beat, then grins, "Things used to be simpler before. I mean, I'm not imagining that—our lives were so much _easier_, right?"

Haley grins back at her, "What you mean before the divorces and the break-ups and the illegitimate kids popping up and the accidental out-off-wedlock pregnancies and the tell-all novel that pretty much exposed all the details of our private lives?" she snorts, "Yah, it was all much simpler before. Mmm, maybe we should just get an apartment and move in together just like in college. At least we had a lot of fun in between all the drama."

"Yeah," Brooke says in between a fit of laughter, "Just you, me, Rae, and the kids. Brilliant, really."

Haley laughs, too. And it's good, really, because they needed to have a good laugh. To let it all out for at least a second. "Oh, why the hell not? It sure as hell beats living in this big empty house. I hate it when Em's not here. I swear I can hear my own echo. Hell, I even miss Dexter sliding down the banister and making noise."

"Hales, don't you ever wonder what would've happened if you and Jay had...stuck it out?" Brooke asks, "You two were so good together. And he loves you, and I'm pretty sure you love him, too."

"Sometimes love just isn't enough."

Brooke reaches for Haley's hand and grips it, "Yeah, but it's a pretty good start," she says, giving her a supportive squeeze, "You haven't even been divorced a_ month_. You two separated for almost a year and then just...decided to end it officially."

"Are you gonna make up with Luke any time soon?"

Brooke rolls her eyes, "Touché," she says, "That's different. Lucas is hot damn mess, but Jake...he's steady, he's dependable, he's a great father—and he _loves_ you. You were married, you had a life together."

"Hales!" Lucas voice booms from the foyer, echoed by Emma's "Mom!" as she and Dexter run ahead of him and burst into the living room. The brooder chuckles as he watches them disappear into the house, "We're here."

Brooke furrows her brow, "Is that...?"

"Crap, Jake must've told him to drop Emma off," Haley flashes her an apologetic look, though Brooke can tell she doesn't really mind. "In here!"

Emma and Dexter crash into Brooke's arms first—both Jaglieski kids _love_ their Aunt Brooke. "Hey, munchkins!" she greets, "I've missed you so _so_ much, guys! Em, you look gorgeous. And Dex, you look very handsome!"

"Hey, just me standing in the corner over here," Haley says, feigns being hurt.

Emma runs into her mother's arms and gives her a hug, "Hey, Mom," And then Dexter hugs her, too. "Hi, Hales," he greets. "Been a while,"

Lucas and Brooke stand side by side and watch in amazement as both kids fill in Haley on the details of their day out with their uncle. The moment only serves to further confuse them as to _why_ Haley and Jake aren't together anymore. It'd be one thing if Dexter and Haley didn't get along, but they do. Dexter loves Haley, misses that he barely sees her nowadays. And Haley clearly loves the boy, too.

"Where's Alex?"

Brooke rolls her eyes in annoyance, licks her lips, "He's with the sitter," she says, "And stop nicknaming my son, Lucas."

Lucas clenches his fists, breathes through his nose. He doesn't want this to turn into a _thing_. It's awkward enough that they're here with Jake's other kid, no need to start a fight, too. The doorbell rings and Lucas sighs, thinks: 's_aved by the fuckin' bell,_' and goes to see who it is.

He walks back into the living room with Jake next to him. Jake waves nervously, "Hi," he greets.

"Jake..." Haley looks paralyzed for a second, then she puts on a polite smile, "Hey."

Brooke's eyes widen a bit, and she mutters "Fuck," quietly. Thinks, '_Yeah, this isn't awkward at all..._' "You know, I should get going," she starts, "I'm gonna miss the train, and I should really get back."

Haley seems to snap back to life, "Right. I'll give you a ride."

"Um, no need," Jake jumps in, "Luke's got his car right here, and he's headed back to the city now, too. I'm sure he wouldn't mind taking taking you." He's still Luke's official wingman, and he still believes that Lucas and Brooke can work things out.

Brooke opens her mouth to argue, but Lucas beats her to it. "I don't mind at all." he says with a grin, "Neither do you, right, B.?" he asks, shoots a glance at the kids knowing Brooke won't tell him off with them standing right there.

"Of course not," Brooke replies, her eyes staring daggers at the blonde, "Why would I? C'mere, munchkins," she kneels down, and Dexter and Emma give her a goodbye hug, "I'll see you both real soon, all right." They embrace Lucas next, and with that the godparents are gone.

Jake and Haley remain standing in the living room, Dexter and Emma glancing back and forth between them. Emma tugs her brother's arm, "Come on, Dex," she says, "Lets go play outside." Dexter frowns confused, but follows his little sister's lead—Emma's always been to smart for her own good anyways.

"Um, sorry about Lucas dropping Em off with Dex." Jake says, tucks his hands into his pants' pockets, "I thought I'd get out early today, but then I didn't and Luke was with them so he said he'd bring them over, but I had Emma's bag in the car..." he waves a hand dismissively, "Anyway, I'm sorry."

Haley smiles, "I don't mind," she says, "I haven't actually seen Dexter in a while—he's grown a whole foot!" she exclaims with a semblance of maternal pride. But she is not Dexter's mother. "Uh, how's Nicki?"

"Ah, disappeared again, you know how that goes," Jake says, clearly tired of Nicki's antics, "Dex's been staying with me for over two weeks now. And I don't mind. I mean, I love having him in the house, but...I'm running out of ways to explain what's happening with his mother."

Nicki Smith never made it through college. And while it was certainly clear that she loved her son, she didn't particularly know how to take care of him. She'd picked up a couple of habits: booze, pills and weed. When she's clean it's good, and when she isn't it's really bad. Mostly she just disappears for indefinite periods of time.

Taking care of Dexter had been easy, but dealing with Nicki's fucked up drama—_that_ was what had really screwed up Jake and Haley's marriage.

**-xx-**

The next few hours blur by in a haze, Clay takes it like a champ and doesn't throw up.

When he's slightly more conscious, Rachel sits him down under a cold shower, sits on the floor across from him. They stare each other down for a while, but she finally caves and decides to speak first. "I'm sorry I didn't make it back for your father's funeral."

"Well, I'm sorry you had to fly all the way across the country to babysit me," Clay answers, "So I guess we're even."

Rachel smirks, "I'm not keeping score."

"I haven't seen you in almost three years, Rachel." Clay says bitterly, "I'm pretty sure you're not keepin' much of anything these days."

Rachel shakes her head, "Can we not do this right now?" she asks, "I don't want to fight. I came here to make sure you're all right."

"How very thoughtful," Clay shoots back, stands up to turn off the shower, "But I'm all better now. You can go."

"Fuck you," Rachel hands him a towel to wrap around his waist, "Get dressed. You need to eat, and drink something—_water_." she clarifies, "I'm gonna clean up those cuts, see if you need any stitches and get you an ice-pack for that bruise on your back. From the looks of things, you got your ass handed to you."

Clay grins his best lopsided grin, happy to have the redhead back and willing to overlook everything else, "Well, it was five against one, Freckles," he says, "You should see the other guys, though."

Rachel still remembers when Clay first gave her the nickname. He used to joke that he could trace the constellations of freckles on her back with his eyes closed, he knew her body better than she did. "I'm sure you knocked 'em dead, slugger," she says, "But I still gotta check you out, okay?"

"Right. I forgot." Clay smirks, "You're _Dr_. Rachel Gatina now."

Rachel rolls her eyes, "Shut up," she tells him, "I never needed a degree to take care of you before, and I don't need one now, stupid. So c'mon, lets get you patched up."

"Sure thing," Clay replies, follows her obediently, "You're the boss."

**-xx-**

The drive down from Hartford seemed to take forever, at least for Brooke. Neither her nor Lucas said anything throughout the entire ride. Until Brooke noticed Lucas wasn't driving towards the Imperial, but rather towards East 40th. "Where the fuck are we going?" she asks.

"My place." Lucas answers without taking his eyes off the road. "There's something I need to show you."

This does nothing to appease the brunette, and the pair continues arguing all the way into the brooder's loft. Finally tired of all the pointless back-and-forth, Lucas grips her arms, "Calm the fuck down," he orders, "I just want you to see something. It's not like I'm holding you fuckin' hostage."

Brooke sees the sincerity in those navy-blues of his and relents. But being submissive has never been in her nature so she kicks him in the shin—_hard_. "You grab me like that again, and I'll cut your balls off, okay?" she hisses, "Now what is it that I need to see?"

Lucas winces in pain from the kick, but shakes it off. Doesn't want her to see him showing weakness. "Just come on," he says as he starts going up the stairs. He takes her to the same bedroom he'd shown Jake the day before.

Brooke walks inside, takes it all in. The expensive crib, the changing table, the baby monitor, diapers, wipes, blankets and a baby clothes that are neatly organized along the shelves. She even smiles at the fact that Lucas painted 'Jackson' on the wall and not Alex.

But then she glances at his bedroom, the unmade bed and the nearly empty mini-bar—not to mention the big bar downstairs and snaps herself out of it. "Buying some baby stuff and painting a couple of walls doesn't make you a father, Lucas." And she doesn't say it to hurt him, if anything it's disappointment he feels in her voice rather than an intent to wound his ego.

"I know that, Brooke," Lucas says, "But it's a start, right? I am _trying_ here."

Brooke sighs, runs her fingers through her chocolate locks, "I need to get out of here," she says as she exits the baby's bedroom, "I'll get a cab."

Lucas cuts her path, slides between her and the stairs. Brooke inches away from him—they're in his bedroom, and he's too close for comfort and he still sends that shiver running down her spine. "What do you think you're doing?" she asks, "Get out of my way."

"I'm not letting you back away." Lucas' hands grip her waist, "I miss you. I _love_ you."

Brooke looks away, "Don't do this right now." she shakes her head, "Just get out of the way."

"_No_!" The brooder's grip on her waist tightens and he leans down, his warm breath tickling her face. "You don't want me to back away. I know you love me, too." Then his lips crash down against hers passionately.

Brooke gives in to his kiss, his lips still mould against hers like clay. He still smells like that L'Occitane sandalwood soap and Downy. He can still make her melt with a kiss. He is still Luke Scott, the brooding asshole she feel in love with four years ago.

Lucas' hands roam the brunette's sides and slip under her tank-top to then slide it off over her head. Brooke raises her arms so he can dispose of the garment, and practically instantly his mouth is back on hers, his hands exploring every surface of her bare skin.

Despite the pregnancy, Brooke's alabaster skin was still as flawless as porcelain. Shit, pregnancy had only done Brooke good in Lucas' opinion: wider hips, fuller breasts and an even more perfectly-shaped ass.

"I want you." Lucas growls in that low voice as he grips her voluptuous hips and grinds into her.

**-xx-**

"This was a mistake, Lucas." Brooke assures him as she puts her shirt back on and searches for her boots.

Lucas grabs her arm and spins her to face him, "No," he says, "This was _right_."

Brooke yanks her arm away, presses a hand to his chest to shove him off, "It wasn't. It was a slip." she assures him, "You don't get to have me anymore, Lucas. And you sure as hell can't have _my son_."

"Don't do this." Lucas shakes his head, punches a wall, "Just _don't_, Brooke."

It's then that they hear the front door open up and Nate Scott's voice boom in, "Luke!" he calls out, "You here?" Nate goes up the stairs and smirks lewdly at the sight: Lucas wearing only his white cotton boxers and Brooke zipping up her jeans. "Well, well, well," he says, "What did _I_ interrupt?"

If looks could kill, Brooke's glare would've dropped him cold instantly, "Shove it, Nathan," she hisses through gritted teeth.

Her phone beeps, a text from the sitter. She took the boys down to Serendipity 3. Nate overhears her say something about picking the kids up there in fifteen minutes as she rushes down the stairs and out of Lucas' loft.

"Afternoon delight," Nate grabs a glass and pours himself a Scotch, "_Nice_, dude."

Lucas grabs a football off the floor and launches it at his brother's head. "Fuck off," he hisses.

"Fine, fine," Nate raises his palms in surrender, "Y'know, sex is supposed to help release tension, not cause it. Maybe you're doing it wrong."

Lucas falls back onto his bed, "I'm seriously not in the mood for this right now, Nate." he rubs his hands over his face, "Y'know, Brooke and I have never been perfect, but we've always worked. Since we got together officially, we always worked. We both _wanted_ it to work. And now it's just...we can't get back there again."

Nate plops down on the hanging chair. "Maybe she didn't like being the broken girl from your book."

"Enough with the fuckin' book—it's supposed to be _fiction_!"

"Yeah. And you _did_ use poetic license with some parts, but you also take a bit of every one of us, too. What I mean is, there are certain things no one needs to hear." Nate licks his lips, "I know I'm a '_good-time guy with an enticing smirk capable of charming a girl's panties off in under five minutes flat_' and that my '_brain lives in my pants_'—or at least that's how you describe my alter-ego, Nick Smith."

Lucas rubs his eyes, "Look, Nate, I—"

"And while all that might be true, I didn't particularly care for reading it in print." Nate explains calmly, "Shit, dude—you put Mom's affair with Uncle Keith in there, not to mention Dan's questionable politics and his fling with Deb the campaign advisor. His senate campaign took a huge hit, not that I cared, but it still wasn't cool."

Lucas winces, remembers Karen blew a fucking gasget when the press started phoning the house, still gives him a deep look of maternal disappointment whenever she sees him. Keith keeps him at arm's length and only talks to Lucas when he absolutely has to. Dan doesn't talk to him at all, except when they're out in formal public events.

"Fine... FINE! So I fucked up. I never thought it'd get this out of hand." Lucas says, "It was just supposed to be book, Nate. I never thought it'd unravel all this shit."

Nate shrugs, pours himself some more Scotch, "You want to know the truth about honesty?" he asks, "No one wants to know it—that's why little white lies are the fuckin' norm." he downs the contents of his glass and pours himself another, "Wanna join me for a round?"

Lucas' fists clench, he glances at the bottle in his brother's hand and nods, "Yeah," he clears his throat, "Yeah. Make mine a double."

**-xx-**

Clay walks Rachel down to the Imperial lobby barefoot in an old pair of Adidas soccer shorts and an unbuttoned De La Renta shirt. "Hey," he reaches for her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers, "Are you sure you don't want a room?" he asks her, "I got some pull here, y'know."

"Yeah," Rachel smiles, "I'm sure. I'm staying at my parents' brownstone near Central Park. But I won't leave without saying goodbye."

Clay spins her back against his chest, brings his free hand up to cup her cheek, "Promise?"

Rachel rolls her eyes playfully, "_Yes_."

It's then that a little raven-haired boy runs away from Brooke and clings to Rachel's legs, "Mommy, mommy!" he exclaims with a grin, "I missed ya!"

Rachel bends down, lifts the kid up in her arms, and avoids looking directly into Clay's eyes. Christopher on the other hand stares right at him with his big blue eyes.

Clay glances at Rachel who continues to look at the floor and then he turns to look at Brooke who couldn't look any guiltier is she tried. Finally, Clay looks at the two-year-old in the redhead's arms. Christopher remains unfazed, oblivious to what's happening right now. "Who are you?" the toddler asks curiously.


	4. Truth & Consequence

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the newly fixed Mac in which I wrote this on…**

**AN: I am trying really hard not be a douche with updating this story (which I sometimes tend to do as you all well know). I'm reading that a lot of you want Nate to have a real relationship, some want me to explore Naley, others do not. I feel a little torn, I like light Nate, but I'd also like to give him a little depth. I'm thinking about what to do there, but more suggestions are always welcome.**

**Major thanks to everyone who reviewed and to everyone who's reading this right now. Also, a special shout out to _emptyeyes09_ for catching the _Suits_ reference in the last chapter.**

**Here's the next chapter, which is kinda short. Sorry about that. Tell me whatcha think, dudes.**

**Breakin' All The Rules**

Truth & Consequence

**-xx-**

_"But the thing is, my slate will never be swiped clean  
—this will never fade into the background and become  
some sort of learning experience or bump in the road.  
The shit that happened in my life and this book is real.  
And because I finally woke up to that whole realization much too late  
—the realization that life really happens  
and there is always a consequence for your actions—  
I lost everything in some sense, but in a weird kind of great way,  
if you flip it all around, I may have gained  
the most important thing of all: _The Truth_."_

_―Jason Myers  
_

**-xx-**

Time seems to freeze and you can practically hear the gears of Clay's brain turning as he pieces everything up: "Mommy, mommy!", a kid who can't possibly be more than two or three years old, the kid's _blue blue blue_ eyes, that last night he had with Rachel down in Boston almost three years ago.

Christopher asks, "Who are you?"

"Um," Clay's words falter. He eyes the redhead, but she refuses to meet his gaze. Same can be said for his supposed best friend Brooke Davis. "I'm..." he clears his throat, "I'm Clay. Who're you, little man?"

"Christopher." The toddler replies, proud to know the answer so easily.

It's Brooke who first snaps out of her stupor, suggests they take this upstairs because they shouldn't have this argument in front of Christopher. And because Clay's already tenuous reputation can't handle a public scandal right now. They end up in her penthouse where she sets Jax down in the bedroom and parks Chris in front of Disney-On-Demand turned on loudly so the grown-ups can have a talk.

Though at this point, it's yelling and accusations more than anything else.

"WHAT THE FUCK, RAE!"

"CALM THE FUCK DOWN!"

"ARE YOU FUCKIN' KIDDIN' ME RIGHT NOW!"

"STOP JUMPING TO CONCLUSIONS!"

"WELL, RIGHT NOW IT'S NOT THAT BIG A LEAP—HOW OLD IS HE? IS HE _MINE_? CAN YOU AT LEAS CONFIRM THAT MUCH?"

"WILL YOU CALM THE FUCK DOWN ALREADY."

The _ding_! of the elevator seems to echo throughout the spacious living room as the doors open to reveal Nate Scott. The tension in the room is freaking palpable, and the raven-haired Scott gulps, "What's goin' on?" he asks no one in particular.

"Wanna fill him in or should I?" Clay is all up on Rachel's face. "See, Rachel here has a kid about two years old—remember who she was fuckin' that far back?"

Nate visibly whitens, "You have a kid?" he looks faint. Flashes of a one-night stand from when the redhead first moved to L.A. after her break-up with Clay play like a movie in his head. They'd both deemed the night a mistake; she'd been lonely and he'd been horny—that was always a bad combination. But they'd chalked it up to two best friends who needed a warm-body and decided to do each other a solid. It was never spoken about again.

Except now it's the only thing Nate can think about. "Rae?" And the redhead can hear the underlying question in his tone, see the confusion and desperation in his eyes. "_Rachel_." he repeats.

But they've all known each other too long—Clay and Nate and Brooke and Rachel—so the redhead isn't the only one able to read all the implications exchanged between her and Nate right now. "You've got to be _shitting_ me—_him_? You fucked my idiot best friend and he's the father!"

Nate frowns, "Hey!" he exclaims, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Brooke rubs her eyes, attempts to process everything that is going down right now. Rachel has never quite said the words _Clay is Christopher's father_, but it has certainly always been implied. After all, Clayton Evans was Rachel's only serious relationship right around the time of Chris' conception.

Except Nate now looks guiltier than a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Brooke wants to pinch the redhead and ask her: What. The. _Fuck_?, but she doesn't want to add any new fuel to this pretty heated fire so she holds her tongue.

It's usually that way with Rachel. You just hold your breath and go along for the ride.

And now it's Nate vs. Clay on how could he fuck Rachel, and the Bro Code and God knows what other kind of macho crap they're spewing about, but it's when it looks like Clay might take a swing at Nate that Rachel finally takes command of the situation.

It's as if Rachel Gatina suddenly snaps back to life, getting in between the feuding males and shoving them apart. "_ENOUGH_!" she orders, "Nate, back off—I mean it, this doesn't concern you." she hisses, turns to face Clay, "Look, there was a one-time slip with Nate—_after_ we where broken up. I found out that I was already a month pregnant less than a week after the fact. Okay? Christopher's yours."

Nate huffs, "Un-fuckin'-believable." his fingers run through his raven locks, "Rae, how could you hide this from everyone? How could you hide this from_me_?"

And that sets off the next round of yelling and recriminations—

Clay to Nate for fucking his (ex) girlfriend.

Nate to Clay for him having implied at some point that Nate was too useless to be a father.

Then both of them against Rachel (and Brooke) for hiding this.

"You know what, fuck this!" Nate howls, "It's not my kid, and apparently we aren't even that good friends," he tells the redhead harshly, "Because for two fuckin' years we were both livin' in L.A. and you didn't reach out to me _once_. I was there for you, and you tossed me aside. Fuck you, Rachel."

The focus shifts again and suddenly they're paired off—Clay & Brooke, Nate & Rachel—two sets of best friends, each other's better and worse half.

The redhead's words fall upon deaf ears, Nate violently pulling out of her grip and rushing out of the apartment.

This isn't his mess.

Not anymore.

And Rachel can only stand back and watch as the twenty-six year old friendship between Brooklyn P. Davis and Clayton R. Evans appears to disintegrate before her very eyes.

"You _knew_," Pain and betrayal are etched in Clay's cobalt-blue eyes, "All this time, you knew and you never told me." Clay and Brooke had always hurt other people (sometimes for sport), but they'd never hurt each other—not like this, not this kind of deception.

But Brooke had found herself caught between the rock and the hard place. She loved Clay—he was her soul mate, her best friend, her brother. But Rachel was her family, too. "I was just trying to protect Rach—"

Clay cuts her off violently, "FROM WHAT," he gets in her face, forces her to take a step back, "From _me_? From the walking screw-up who could never be a father!"

"It wasn't like that!" Brooke runs her fingers through her hair, "Think back, what where you doing three years ago?" she tells him, "You were establishing Fortitude and traveling all around the country signing up players, being the Dream Merchant—"

"—_don't_."

"And Rae was finishing up med school,"

"Just don't."

"You both wanted big things, and she didn't want to derail that. She wanted you both to go forward with—"

"_DON'T_!" Clay yells, "Don't you dare try to justify what she did—what _you_ helped her do!"

"I'm not trying to justify anything!" Brooke shouts right back at him, "I'm trying to _explain_!"

Anger flows through Clay's body, only this time it feels like a fucking tidal wave ready to destroy anyone in it's path. "You know, I always knew you were a vindictive bitch—it's who we are, right? It's how we were raised. Survival of the fuckin' fittest, no room for weakness, and _everyone_ is expendable." Words intended to hit the tiny brunette where it hurt because _he_ was hurting, and he couldn't believe she'd ever had a hand in something that caused him this type of pain. "So I always knew. I just never knew you could be such a selfish bitch with _me_!"

**_SMACK_!**

Brooke's petite hand connects with Clay's scruffy cheek in a sharp slap, a fine red imprint now marring his already bruised face. The force of the blow re-opens the cut on his lip, and he can feel the metallic tang of the blood against the taste buds of his tongue.

Clay doesn't even flinch in pain (though he certainly feels it), merely stares Brooke down. "Go to hell, Brooke."

Brooke looks down at her aching hand. It's stained with blood—with her best friend's blood—and none of this feels real right now. Warm tears stream down her face, "Clay—" her voice breaks down even before Clay cuts her off.

"I mean it. We're _done_." Spit shoots up from his mouth and he coughs it out, the crimson-red blood staining the white marble tile of the floor as if somehow marring it's purity. Darkened cobalt-blue eyes then zoom in on the redhead, "You can go to hell, too." he hisses venomously before disappearing into the elevator.

Both women stand in the now empty penthouse apartment. Brooke collapses next to the redhead on the couch. Rachel leans forward, her elbows resting on her knees, her face buried in her hands. "What have I done?" Brooke's arms wrap around the redhead, and Rachel nuzzles her head in the crook of Brooke's neck as tears flow freely.

"Sshh, sshh," Brooke's fingers run through her friend's scarlet locks in an attempt to soothe her. It's the first time she's seen Rachel cry in years. "It's gonna be alright," she says, though she isn't entirely sure if it's true at this moment, "It's all gonna alright."

For a second they're young again—responsible for no one but themselves—and able to collapse on a whim because they want to. But then Jax's cries pierce the apartment and Chris starts calling out for Rachel, and they're thrust back into reality.

They're Mothers now.

They don't have to luxury to break down whenever the need presents itself.

Not anymore.

**-xx-**

Nate Scott ends up farther than he'd intended to go. But two cabs and a train ride later, he is in Hartford, Connecticut, standing outside the James (former James-Jaglieski) house. His strong fist knocks on the oak door repeatedly as if that'll somehow will it to be answered faster.

Haley opens her front door and finds herself surprised at who she finds standing outside her house at 8 o'clock at night. "Nate." she says, brow furrowed in confusion, "What're you doing here?"

Nate shrugs, "Don't know," he walks right by her and steps inside, "Checked in on Clay after his pop croaked, caught up with Luke, found out I'm not a father—y'know, all the usual stuff." he says offhand.

He's being glib, Haley notices. Well, glibb_er_ than usual. She knows this is never good. "Come right on in," she says sarcastically as she closes the door and follows him into the kitchen. He's already raiding the fridge. "Please, help yourself."

Nate grabs a bottle of Coke, "You haven't changed at all," he says, takes a pull from the soda, "Is there no booze in this house? You live in Hartford for Christ's sake—embrace the WASP-ness already."

Haley rolls her eyes, "There's a wine rack in the den, ding-dong," she replies, "But no, I don't make it a habit to stockpile my refrigerator with alcohol." She shakes her head and sighs, "What're you doing here, Nathan?"

"It's the off season." Nate shrugs, "I'm bored."

Haley nods, "Right. Well, lets review: last off season you went sailing with Clay—which I'm pretty sure consisted of drinking, getting high and then stuffing your face with Oreos while watching cheesy _Saved By The Bell_ reruns on MTV2."

"Oy!" Nate frowns, points an accusing finger at her, "Do not mock _Saved By The Bell_—it is a cult _classic_."

Haley snorts, arms crossed over her chest, "Yes. As I recall, Zack Morris was quite an influence on you all throughout junior high." She can still remember a long list of harebrained schemes that Nate had tried to pull off in high school, and who could ever forget the college years. "Why are you here, Nate?"

Nate chuckles, "Y'know, besides Luke and Peyt, you're probably the one other person I grew up with—I mean, there's Jake, but he wasn't really my friend. He was always Luke's best friend. And you're Luke's best friend, too, but you were always hanging around the house and shit." he pauses and grins, "I think you saw my parents more than I ever did senior year."

"Yes, your point being?"

"And we went to college together, too. So you've been there for pretty much every main moment of my life." Nate continues, "But we've never liked each other." he adds matter-of-factly, "Why is that?"

Haley furrows her brow, "Uh, because when we were in the 5th grade and I had a sleepover at your house with Luke you stole my training bra and hung it like a flag outside your window?" she jests, "I don't know, Nate. What's going on with you?"

Nate releases a sigh and proceeds to drop an abbreviated Cliff Notes version of what just went down. Haley takes it all in stride—at this point, there is very little that either Brooke, Rachel or Clay could do that would actually surprise her. But the fact that Nate is so..._wounded_ by it all does shock her slightly. If anything, she'd have thought he would've been _relieved_ to escape from the responsibilities that come with being a father.

Nate Scott had never looked like the commitment type.

"Listen," Haley's hand covers Nate's empathically, "I love Rachel. And I love Brooke. But look at the mess they're in right now. I don't know what they were thinking. Rachel has a son who doesn't know his father, and Clay may never forgive her. Or Brooke for that matter. I'm talking about serious never-gonna-be-the-same repercussions. Do you really envy the position either of them is in right now?"

Nate hums, slumps his shoulders, "Yeah, I get that," he says, "But...I dunno, sometimes I get a little tired of being everyone's comic-relief. I'd like to be taken seriously at least once."

Haley nods in understanding, removes her hand, "Why're you really here, Nate?"

"Because." Nate answers with a shrug, "'Sides, like I said, you've known me forever and you've never bought into any of my BS. I needed a friend like that right now."

"Come on, lets not kid ourselves, Nate," Haley says, "It's not like we've ever been friends. Not really anyways."

Nate frowns, somehow offended by the comment, "Aye, c'mon," he protests, "We _are_ friends. Aren't we?" he sighs, "Look, I don't have a lot of friends, but I always counted you among the few."

"Oh please, _spare_ _me_! Nathaniel Royal Scott, there are many things that you've always been lacking, but friends has never been one of them. You're feeling sorry for yourself, and that is a very unbecoming look for you." Haley turns to scavenge the pantry, pulls out a large red bag of Popcorn Indiana Kettlecorn. "And I've yet to find a problem that doesn't seem easier after binging on one of _these_."

Nate furrows his brow, "I thought you said we _weren_'t friends."

"Eh, maybe we're not," Haley answers, "But that's never stopped you from barging into my life unannounced before, has it? Now come on. I TiVo-ed the_Saved By The Bell_ marathon on MTV2."

Nate smirks the infamous Scott-Smirk, "And I thought you didn't like the show."

"You kiddin' me?" Haley huffs, "It's a _classic_!"

**-xx-**

"_So shut your eyes while mother sings o__f wonderful sights that be. __And you shall see the beautiful things a__s you rock in the misty sea w__here the old shoe rocked the fishermen three: __Wynken, __Blynken, a__nd Nod._" Rachel finishes reading the story and smiles at the sight of her sleeping little boy, "Sleep tight, sweets," she presses a kiss to Christopher's forehead and makes sure he's all tucked in for the night before closing the bedroom door.

Brooke sits on the living room couch, Jax already asleep in her arms. "Want me to set him down?" The redhead asks.

"No, that's okay," Brooke stands up, head towards her bedroom, "I got him. I like tucking him in every night." She exits her bedroom and closes the door intending to make sure that Jax doesn't wake up. She flops back down on the couch and hugs a cushion to her chest, "What're we gonna do now?"

"I have to go back to L.A. in a week, Brooke." Rachel says firmly while she paces in front of her, "I have a job, and my mother's expecting me." she sighs, "My life's there. My family's there. I have to go back."

Brooke nods, licks her lips, "I get that, Rae," she says, "I really do. I know how important your career is to you, and how hard you've worked to get where you are. But your family is also _here_—_Clay_ is family. He's Christopher's father. And he knows that now. You can't just up and leave again."

"Well, what do you propose I do?" Rachel throws her arms in the air, "Stay here and fight it out with Clay who is barely holding it together?"

" I don't know!" Brooke shrieks right back at her, "But look at what's happening right now! You can_not_ just pick up and leave—do you realize I basically torched my friendship with Clay to cover your ass!"

A pang of guilt hits the redhead, but she doesn't let it show. "Who asked you to?"

"_You_ did!" But Brooke's never been one to back down, either. "You called me and told me to get my ass down to L.A. You looked at me big desperate eyes and told me you didn't know what do to. And you asked me not to say anything." she hisses, "And I did it because I love you and because you_needed_ it. But now the shit has really hit the fan, and we need to deal with it."

Rachel looks away, "This _is_ how I deal with it," she replies, "I won't put my son through the wringer for sport. Clay wasn't supposed to find out, okay? I shouldn't have brought Christopher with me, but I've never left him before and I didn't want to leave him alone with my mother and Aunt Amy for so long." she sighs, "B., I'm sorry, but I...I have to go back. I cannot stay here."

Brooke shakes her head in disbelief, stands up. "I'm going for a walk," she says dryly as she slides on her shoes, "Call me if Jax wakes up, will you," and with that she disappears off into the elevator.

**-xx-**

It's late at night, though in New York City it's always kind of hard to tell—it really _is_ the city that never sleeps.

Brooke Davis stands still outside the all too familiar building. Doubt hits her with the full force of a hurricane, and her fist halts midair before knocking on the door—_she shouldn't be here_.

Tears start to flow from clouded hazel eyes and she wants to just_ scream_ until she loses voice. But she can't do that—she has to think about Jax and about work and all her other responsibilities. So she just knocks on the door instead.

Lucas Scott opens the door, surprise in his navy-blue eyes at the sight, "Brooke?"

"I-I-I just—I'm sorry, I just needed..." Brooke's voice falters and she's crying again. She wraps her arms around herself in an attempt to calm down, but it's all to no avail.

Protective arms encircle the brunette's petite body like towers. Lucas pulls her tightly against his bare chest, the need to care and comfort her too primal to be denied even after a couple of Scotches. "Hey, hey," Soft whispers meant to appease the fashionista, and then his lips are kissing the top of her head while his nostrils breathe in her coconut scented shampoo. "It's okay, Pretty Girl. I'm here." His voice is firm and delicate at the same time, his long fingers running through her chocolate locks in an attempt to soothe her, "I got you. It's alright."

For a second Luke worries that something happened to Jax, but he immediately shakes that thought off—if it had, he wouldn't have been at the top of Brooke's to-know list. And besides, Brooke would never leave her son if something was wrong.

No, Brooke coming to him like this had to be something personal. And he can tell that this isn't one of their bitch-and-fight-and-end-up-naked arguments—Brooke's seriously messed up over something right now.

Brooke is pressed up against the brooder's bare chest and she breathes him in: Sean John's Unforgivable mingling together with the L'Occitane sandalwood soap he's used since forever—he feels warm, feels like _home_, and just this once she'll allow herself this moment to lean on him. "Things are so messed up." she manages to gasp out in between sobs.

Lucas sighs, "I know," he sweeps the tiny brunette up into his arms and carries her inside, "I gotcha, babe," he sits down on the couch, the brunette cuddled up into a ball in his lap. "I'm here for you, okay? Talk to me. What happened?"

Brooke buries her face against his neck, proceeds to tell him everything. The pieces fall together like a series of snapshots: why Rachel dropped off the radar when she moved to L.A., why Brooke disappeared for weeks on end for supposed business trips to L.A., and—now that the secret was out—why Clayton Evans was so royally pissed off right now. Angry enough to scare Brooke Davis into thinking that this is something they may not recover from.

A large part of Lucas empathizes with Clay right now (and wow he never thought _that_ would actually happen!), but he shoves that aside, decides to comfort Brooke because a smaller part of him can understand where she was coming from. "You were just trying to do the right thing."

"Everything's falling apart." Brooke's voice is raw, simultaneously overflowing emotion and lacking it.

Lucas' strong hands rubs circles against her back, "Hey, I'm here," he says, "Things'll work out. You and Clay will be back to your annoying selves soon enough."

Brooke pulls back and stares at him with bloodshot eyes, "_We_ didn't." she says, "We fell apart and we didn't pull it back together."

"Hey," Lucas gently lifts her chin, forces her to look at him, "Hey. I'd like to think we're not a lost cause just yet."

Brooke shakes her head sadly, "You betrayed me, Lucas." she says, "You...you used us—used _our_ history—to make a name for yourself." she sighs, "You sold us out. And you are still drinking and partying and acting like you're not accountable to anything or _anyone_—"

"Brooke, I'm—"

"And if things were different, if it was just us, maybe I could deal with it." Brooke continues undeterred. "I'd wait, and we'd eventually get our act together. But I don't have that luxury anymore. I can't just wait and hope things will work out between us. I waited _so_ many years for my parents to get their shit together and they never did. I won't do that to my son. I will not put Jax through that."

Voice dripping resolve, Lucas assures her, "I won't either!" he says, "Listen to me—I know I fucked up. I know how much the book hurt us. But I love you and I love Jax. And I'll do whatever I have to do to prove it to you!"

Brooke stands up, "I shouldn't have come here." she says sadly, "But you're still my person. You're still the one I come to for solace. And I..."

"Hey, I'm _always_ here." Lucas assures her, "Always."

Brooke runs her hand along Lucas' scruffy face, and the soft touch still manages to ignite something deep within the blonde. "I know you are. And I love you, Lucas." she says, "But I just don't _trust you_ anymore." She whispers and then presses a kiss to his cheek, "Goodbye."

**-xx-**

Jake Jaglieski is fast asleep on his couch, laptop open on the coffee table and a bunch of legal briefs scattered around, when his cell phone goes off and pulls him out of his stupor.

He answers without checking the caller ID, "Jaglieski," his voice is hoarse and tired.

"_Jake. Sorry to wake you. It's Clay. I...I have a legal question_."

Jake blinks a couple of times, steals a glance at his watch, "Clay, it's 1 o'clock in the mornin'," he says, "Are you in jail or something? What's goin' on?" It wouldn't be the first time he got a call in the early hours of the morning to bail Clay out of legal trouble.

"_Nah, nothing like that. I just—I need to talk to you about a paternity issue_."

And Jake's wide awake now. "Clay," he says, his tone loaded with concern, "What the hell's goin' on?"

**-xx-**

**AN: So. I'm asking for some input here: what do _YOU_ guys wanna see? 'Cause I got a pretty basic idea of where this story is going, but I'd also like to know what ya'll want to happen.**


	5. The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the newly fixed Mac in which I wrote this on…**

**AN: Something about this chapter feels filler, but at the same time it doesn't: ah, the conflicting emotions. Tell me whatcha think, dudes.**

**Breakin' All The Rules**

The Heart is a Lonely Hunter

**-xx-**

_You caused my heart to bleed, _

_And you still owe me a _reason_._

_'Cause I can't figure out _why_!_

_..._

_Oh, you can't hear me cry,_

_See my dreams all die_

_From where you're standing_

_On your own._

_It's so quiet here,_

_And I feel so cold._

_This house no longer_

_Feels like _home_._

_—Ben Cocks_

**-xx-**

"Lucas Eugene Scott!"

Haley James uses her spare key to let herself into her best friend's spacious loft. The place looks fairly messed up right now, but it's well within the norm of Lucas' usual mess. She turns to her daughter, "I'm gonna tidy up here a bit, sweets," she says already picking up a stack of books that had been kicked down to the floor, "Why don't you go see if you can find your Uncle," she suggests.

Emma doesn't need to be told twice, runs up the stairs towards her Uncle's bedroom. She spots the blonde snoring on his platform bed, half his body hanging off it. Her eyes scan the room: there are pillows strewn all over, something that smells icky is spilled on the bar-top, and something crystal has been broken because there's glass on the floor.

"Uncle Luke!" Emma shakes him repeatedly, and when that doesn't work she smacks his head with a pillow.

Lucas jumps up startled, "Ugh!" he moans, "Mmup, I'm up," he mutters, flips over and stares curiously at the little girl. "Em? How'd you get here?"

"You drink too much," Emma rightly assesses, jumps up to sit on his stomach as per usual, "And you need to clean up your room."

Lucas feels a tinge of shame at the fact that a six-year-old is reprimanding his bad habits, but quickly shakes it off. "Dude, you're six," he says, conveniently ignoring her previous observations, "I know you didn't drive—you can't even reach the pedals. So, how'd you get here, Em?"

"_I_ drove." Haley appears at the bedroom's entryway, arms crossed over her bosom. "How you doin', Luke?"

Lucas feels simultaneously happy and guilty—he hates it when Haley can see the direct evidence of what a mess his life has become. "I get by," he replies, "What brings Haley James to the city?"

"Nate crashed at the house yesterday. I gave him a lift back into the city." Haley says, "Besides, I wanted to check up on you."

The Brooder opens his mouth, but is stopped when his BlackBerry rings with the harsh strains of a Metallica song—he doesn't recognize the ringtone. "Hold that thought," Lucas sinks back into his large bed, his left hand scavenging under the bed for his ringing phone. "Scott," he answers as he sits up.

"_Oy, plane tickets should be arriving by courier any minute now_."

Lucas frowns, "Who is this?"

"_Oh, my—it's _Jess_, you idiot_!_ Jess, your fuckin' agent_!"

Lucas winces, reminds himself that he should _always_ to check the caller ID before he answers the phone, "Jess, hey," he says, his voice falling flat, "what's up, man?"

"_Tell me you did not forget—you have to be at JFK in two hours if you're planning to make it to _Impulse'_s red carpet. And as your agent, let me answer that for you: you _are_ going. There's already enough rumors floating around, I don't even want to think about what the press will say if you don't show up at your own movie premiere_."

"Pshh," Lucas scoffs, "Of course I didn't forget! Getting ready to head out as we speak."

"_Good. I'm at PHL now. I'll meet you at El Capitan Theatre_."

Lucas nods even though Jess can't see him. "See ya there." He hits the END button and jumps out of bed, "Motherfu—" the glare Haley flashes him causes him to stutter, "_u-u-udge_. Heh, motherfudge."

"What did Jess want?" Haley asks, she uses her Mom Voice now.

Lucas pulls a pair of Diesel jeans out of a drawer and slides them on over his white Oxford cotton boxers, "I gotta catch a plane to L.A. Tonight's the Hollywood premiere of _Impulse_—I thought it was _tomorrow_!" he cuts his eyes to Emma, "Kiddo, do your favorite uncle a solid, scavenge the closet and pick out a cool suit and tie for me, will you?"

"Anything I want?"

Lucas winks, "I trust your judgment, babe," his navy-blue eyes focus on the copper-haired mother once more, "Hey, uh, I could really use a date. Ticket's paid for." Haley opens her mouth to protest, but he cuts her off, "Please, Hales. Look, I'm a total mess right now. Don't make me go alone. You know Brooke won't come with me. She still cringes at the idea of watching Leighton Meester reenact her college years."

"You mean _Brianna Davies_' college years," Haley amends purely to annoy him, "Since it's all supposed to be fiction, anyways. And for the record, I'm actually very curious to see Minka Kelly acting out a part of my life—or should I say Hayden Jones' life?"

Lucas glares, "Enough already!" And there's definitely some pleading in his voice. He already has everyone else giving shit about the book, he doesn't need it coming from Haley, too. "C'mon, just call up Jay and ask him to take Emma. He won't mind."

"Fine. But you will owe me big time time for this." Haley pulls out her cell phone, "And we'll need to stop by Brooke's first."

"What? Why?"

"I need a dress." Haley replies as if the answer should've been obvious, "And we'll never make it in time if I have to drive all the way to Hartford and back. In fact, it's kind of perfect—Em can stay with Brooke and Rachel until Jake gets off work."

Emma walks out of the closet with a black J. Press suit in one hand and a navy-and-blue striped tie in the other hand. "I picked out a white shirt. And the blues in the tie will bring out your eyes, Uncle Luke." she says matter-of-factly, cuts her eyes towards her mother, "Am I staying with Aunt B. for the day?"

"Aye, what did I tell you about eavesdropping, Emma," Haley scolds, then shrugs, "And yes, you'll be staying with your Aunt Brooke for the day."

Emma grins, "Cool." she eyes Lucas, "Hey, am _I_ in the book, Uncle Luke?"

Both Haley and Lucas' eyes widen at the question, "It's _FICTION_!" they reply simultaneously.

"_Riiiiiiight_." Emma had only been reading for a year now, but even when she could read like an adult, Haley had no plans of letting her read Lucas' book. That thing would be banned and book-burned.

Haley shakes her head as if to snap out of it, "Grab your stuff. We're gonna be late."

"Yeah," says Lucas as he finishes buttoning up his Ralph Lauren shirt, "move it, squirt."

"I got a garment bag, we're good to go." Haley says as she slides a pair of Ray-Bans onto Lucas' face. "Something to hide the bloodshot eyes from the sun, yeah."

Lucas doesn't say in response, merely follows her down the stairs and into the car. He glances at his wristwatch:

One hour and forty-five minutes to make it to JFK.

_Run, Forrest, run_!

**-xx-**

The penthouse at the Imperial is unusually quiet that morning.

Brooke sits on a stool, bottle of milk in her hand, "C'mon, babe," Jax is sitting pretty in his carries on the kitchen island, flashing the occasional smile at his mother's playful antics, "Oh, you think mommy's funny?"

When Jax smiles, his lips curve upward with an eerily resemblance to a smirk. It makes Brooke think of Lucas and an automatic sense of yearning hits her—it happens whenever she's with her son, really. She thinks Lucas should be there. She _wants_ Lucas to be there.

Brooke can still recall with amazing detail the way the corner of Luke's mouth twiches slightly before spreading into a wide knowing grin. "Can I tell ya a secret, bud? I really miss your daddy. Everyone says you take after me, but I look at you and I see your daddy's eyes and his smirky-smile. And you really are gorgeous. You totally lucked out with both of your hot parents!"

Rachel and Christopher are still sleeping (like mother, like son—both late sleepers) and Brooke doesn't want to wake them. Doesn't know what she'd say to the redhead if she were awake.

Brooke tried calling Clay everywhere: his room, his cell, his office (both of them)—and she's concluded that he is in fact avoiding her.

On the bright side, Nate did respond to her text.

**From: Nate Scott**

_Im good. Just pissed at R. Call U later._

"Kid, I'm really worried now. Your Uncle Clay's not talking to me, and Nate's distant at best." Brooke sighs, "There's just a lot of drama goin' on, y'know?

_BZZZ! BZZZ! BZZZ!_

The loud buzzing of her iPhone interrupts her, "Ooh, it's your Auntie Haley," she informs Jax after checking the called ID, "Hey, Teacher Mom!" she greets, "Um, yeah, I have a few dresses here... Well, sure, anything you need... You know Em can crash here anytime she wants, but is everything alright?... Oh, sure then. I'll pick something out and get it ready for you." She turns to Jax after hanging up, "C'mon, rockstar, we gotta go pick a dress out for your Aunt Haley. Something fabulous!"

After a serious debate with Jax, Brooke finally settles on a stunning CoB figure-hugging floor-length pale-blue gown. "Your Aunt Hales _totally_ has the curves for it, right?"

The elevator doors open and Emma rushes in, quickly followed by Haley and Lucas. "Princess!" exclaims Brooke as she lifts the little girl into her arms, "We are gonna have so much fun together! Your Aunt Rae's here and you get to meet your cousin Christopher. It'll be a blast—girl's day, plus the two boys."

Haley smiles at the words, can recall the girl's day she used to have with Brooke and Rachel in their small Durham apartment.

"Awesome!" Emma smiles, "Can I watch TV in your room?" In the eyes of Emma (and Christopher and Dexter), Brooke's penthouse suite was full of expensive toys, came with free cable and room service.

Brooke nods, "Remote's on the nightstand." Emma runs towards the bedroom, and Brooke glances at Haley, "Um, gown's in the blue garment bag in my closet. Let me—"

"Oh, I can get it!" exclaims Haley, shooting a knowing glance to Lucas. "I'll let you two talk." Team Brucas all the way, baby.

Lucas tucks his hands into his jeans' pockets, "Um, is Jax awake?"

"Yeah, right here," Brooke lifts him out of his baby carrier, presses a kiss to the top of his head before handing him off to Lucas, "Wanna go see Daddy, Jax? C'mon, let's go."

Lucas cradles his son in his arm and he can't help but to smile—it still amazes him every single time that he and Brooke made this little human being from scratch. Jackson is the most perfect little boy he's ever seen and it still takes his breath away every time he holds him. "Hey, buddy," he says gently, "It's your Daddy. You takin' good care of your Mommy for me? Yeah, I'm sure you are. You're the man of the house, y'know."

Brooke smiles a dimpled smile at the sight, enjoys that Lucas talks to Jax as if he were going to answer back just like she does. "He's a very good boy," she says, "So, uh, you headed down to the premiere?"

"Um, yeah," Lucas pales at the mention, "Listen, Brooke, I—"

Brooke shakes her head, interrupts him, "No, it's okay." At this moment, she's resigned herself to accepting the fact the movie is going to be out there. She doesn't want to fight about it now, is in fact tired of fighting with Lucas. "Listen, when you get back maybe we can get together, take Jax down to Central Park or something?"

Lucas jumps at that, "I'd love to!" he says, doesn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth, but he has to ask, "Brooke, why are you...?"

"I just..." Brooke lets her voice trail off. Doesn't really know what's changed other than the fact that she doesn't want to turn out like Clay and Rachel. She still doesn't trust Lucas, isn't ready to let him in. But _something_'s gotta give. "He should get to know you." she sighs, "I just don't want him to get up one day and ask me why he never sees his daddy."

Lucas reaches for her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers, "That is never going to happen, alright?" he assures her, "_Never_."

"I'll hold you to that."

Haley rushes out then, garment bag in hand, "The dress is gorgeous, Brooke!" she exclaims, half-hugs her friend, "Thank you!"

"Anytime, Hales."

The copper-haired mother kisses Jax's cheek, "You're getting handsomer every time I see you!"

"Yeah, he is." Lucas reluctantly hands him back to Brooke, "I'll see you soon," he cuts his eyes towards the brunette, "Both of you."

"Have fun," she says, "And remember people are afraid to merge on freeways in Los Angeles. Or something like that."

Haley frowns, "What does that mean?"

Lucas smirks as the elevator doors close, "Easton Ellis!" he calls out, easily nailing the reference.

"Hot and smart," the brunette bounces Jax in her arms, "You lucked out on both ends of the gene pool, kiddo. Bye-bye, daddy."

_L.A. here they come_.

**-xx-**

Clayton Evans dons his best Tom Ford suit when he walks inside '21' Club's expansive main dinning room—the prestigious restaurant still enforces a strict dress code. His bruises aren't that noticeable anymore, but his face is still pretty sore. Steady hands adjust his Windsor-knotted tie and secure his cuff-links while his cobalt-blue eyes scan the power-lunch crowd in search for his attorney.

Clay spots Jake Jaglieski sitting at a corner table with two other men, and he approaches them. "Jake," he lays a hand upon the young lawyer's shoulder, "Sorry to interrupt. Am I early?"

Jake stands up, reflexively buttons up his jacket, "Not at all." he says, turns towards his companions, "Harvey, this is—"

"Clayton Evans," Answers the blonde as he stands up and extends a hand for Clay to shake. "Harvey Specter. My condolences about your father."

Clay shakes Harvey's hand, raises an eyebrow in interest—Blondie's decked out in a pin-striped, three-piece Ermenegildo Zegna suit that is tailored with impeccable precision. His confident grin and strong handshake seem to say: 'I'm the king of the world.' The kind of personality that mixes perfectly with Clay's. "Thank you." he says, "How'd you know who I am?"

Harvey smirks, "It's my job to know." he says with that cocky air that always accompanies his tone, points towards the lanky guy standing next to him, "This is my associate, Mike Ross."

"Mike," Clay shakes his hand as well, "Pleasure to meet you both, gentlemen."

"Oh, pleasure's all ours," Harvey answers, then turns towards Jake once more, "Jake, always good to see you." he says as he sets down a couple of fifties on the table, "Think about my offer, will you."

Mike pats Jake's shoulder, "Jay, pickup game next week right?"

"Sure." Jake nods, "I'll call you. Set everything up."

"Alright. Clay, great to meet you. See you, guys."

Clay and Jake stand side by side, hands tucked into their pants' pockets, and watch the duo exit the restaurant. "Who _was_ that?"

"_That_," says Jake, "is Harvey Specter. New York City's best closer."

Clay furrows his brow, "I thought _you_ were the best lawyer in the city."

"Yeah, well," Jake sighs, "Technically my offices are in Hartford."

The pair sits back down at the table, Clay signaling the waiter for a drink and then he asks, "And what exactly is he offering you?"

"He wants to buy me out of the firm along with my half of the client list and bring me in to Pearson Hardman." Jake says matter-of-factly, purses his lips, "Harvey can be very..._persuasive_ when he wants something." He says, shakes his head as if to snap out of it, "But my work's not why I called you over here. What the hell are you planning to do about the kid situation?"

Clay shrugs, "I have no idea." he says, "Look, you said a lot of stuff about paternity and rights and...I don't know! A lot got lost in that translation, dude. Not all of us suffered through law school. I don't speak lawyer-ese!"

Jake leans back into his chair, "You need to give me more information, Clay," he has a serious businesslike tone, and it amazes Clay that _this_ the same easygoing guy who used to jam with him back at Duke. "Is there a DNA test? If there isn't, you need to get one. When was he born? _Where_ was he born? Are you listed as the father on the birth certificate? Is Rachel planning to take the kid across state lines? I need more to work with than 'oh, I have a son now'. And whatever you do, do _not_ hassle Rachel about this. If you're planning to turn this into a custody battle, all communication goes through lawyers from now on." He grips his ice-less Scotch and takes a long sip, "Also, you are now in containment mode: this cannot leak out to the press. They'd have a field day with it."

The bombarding of questions seems to temporarily stun Clay because he can't answer a single one of them. "Dude, this is all sounding very official-like. And I have no clue about anything you're asking." he says, raises his palms slightly, "Why is all of that so important, I mean, do I really need a DNA test?"

"It's _all_ important Clay. Alright, if you're not listed as the father, then you're gonna need evidence to prove that the kid is actually yours. And if you're gonna serve Rachel with papers, it'll favor us to do it while she's in the city. Get the home court advantage—New York court favors joint custody arrangements, and I'm not that practiced in dealing with California statutes anymore."

Clay licks his lips, feels uncertain, "Uh...maybe you can talk to Rae—"

"Listen to me, Clay—we are not nineteen anymore, and I'm not going to play go-between because you're pissed at Rachel." Jake tells him seriously, "If you're bringing me into this as your lawyer, then it cannot be about protecting Rachel's feelings. If you drag this to court it's going to be about winning."

"Hey, it's not like I wanna take the kid away from her!"

Jake downs what's left of his drink, sets the glass back down on the table, "That's not what you told me last night."

"Well, I was really pissed off last night!" Clay replies, "I mean, I'm still angry, but Rae is Christopher's mom. Look, he doesn't even know me yet. I couldn't even think about doing that to them. And if _I_ can't, how can _you_?"

"It's not personal, it's business." Jake clarifies with a surprising level of detachment, "Family law is messy, and custody issues are especially difficult. My advice: Avoid court. Win your battles before they've been fought."

Clay furrows his brow, "Y'know, maybe if you'd been this aggressive with Nicki about getting custody of Dexter you'd still be married right now."

Low. _Fuckin_'. Blow.

Jake stands up, "I'm doing you a favor right now," he says, "When you figure out what it is you want, give me a call. Either way, it's my legal opinion that you should _not_ take this matter to court. This is something you can handle in-house. And don't talk about my marriage again or you'll find yourself in need of a new lawyer." And with that, he exits the restaurant.

Clay rolls his eyes and groans, "Fuck."

**-xx-**

In Hollywood Boulevard Jess Mariano stands in the corner outside El Capitan Theatre in his black Armani suit, his dark locks carefully styled atop his head.

"Luke! Finally!" he lets out a relieved sigh at the sight of his author, hugs his date affectionately, "Hey, Hales," he greets, "About time he brought a decent date to one of these things!"

Haley smiles, "I'll take that as a compliment," she beams, "Good to see you."

Jess Mariano is Lucas' literary agent at Truncheon Books. Haley had always like him, figured it's his unique personality that allows him to handle Lucas creatively.

"Scott," Jess says, his tone serious, "Here's how it's gonna go: smile, talk about the movie, pose for pictures—do _not_ engage in any fact vs. fiction debate." he warns, "Repeat after me: _No. Comment_." he sounds each word out carefully, "Once more with feeling: No. Comment."

"Got it, Jess. I _have_ done this before, remember?" Lucas rolls his eyes, offers his arm to Haley, "Shall we?"

Haley smiles, links her arm through his, "We shall!"

The crowd is thick outside the theatre: photographers and reporters stand behind the red velvet ropes attempting to get pictures and interviews. Clicks and flashes seem to come from every direction the moment the good-looking pair steps onto the red carpet. Reporters shout questions at random hoping to get a hot scoop.

A guy from E! shouts out: "Lucas Scott! Do you have a comment regarding the allegations that your book isn't fiction?" Another one from MTV asks: "Lucas, who's the date?" One from some indistinct member of the press screams out: "What are you wearing!"

They pose for pictures and then approach one of the many reporters. Haley is truly in awe at how easily Lucas handles the interview—he smiles flirtatiously at the cameras, answers the questions calmly and doesn't show any signs that he's about to lose his temper.

"No, this is not my girlfriend—though she is beautiful, isn't she?" The Brooder twirls Haley around as if to show her off, "This is my lifelong friend Haley James. I thought it'd be fitting to share this achievement with my best friend. Working on this project has been a dream come true, and I cannot wait to see these characters come to life on the big screen."

A few more questions fly his way then: 'Is there any truth to the rumors that the main character Lunn Smith is actually you?' and 'Where's Brooke Davis tonight?' and 'Did you two officially break up?'

"Brooke Davis is another great friend, and though we are currently not dating, we still maintain a platonic relationship." Lucas answers in an almost diplomatic manner, "As for the other stuff, no, I have no comment." he gently tugs on Haley's arm, "And we really should be getting inside now. Thank you."

Haley whispers through a smile, "That was really smooth."

His hand rests on the small of her back as they pose for a final picture before entering the theatre, "You sound surprised."

"I really shouldn't be," Haley replies, "You always were a charmer when you wanted to be."

"It's work, Hales," Lucas states dispassionately, "Believe it or not, I'd rather be home—no, scratch that. My loft isn't really home anymore. I just want to be with the woman I love and our son."

Haley sighs, a pang of longing hitting her with force. (Lucas isn't the only one feeling a little homesick for a life he used to have.) "I know, Luke," she rubs his back gently, "Lets just get through this, okay? It's your big night."

The movie is surprisingly good—it has a certain John Hughes-y quality to it, and all the critics seem to be raving. Lucas posses for a few more pictures with the cast, and he and Haley make a brief appearance at the after party before sneaking out the back.

The pair slides into the privacy of their limo and breathe out a sigh of relief. Lucas is more or less used to it, having already been to numerous interviews, autograph signings and launch parties to promote his first two books. But this is an entirely new world for Haley, and she's amazed not only that Lucas has so many fans, but that he handles it all so easily.

It's almost as if he'd been born for this. But then again he is a Scott, and Scotts have never suffered for a lack of attention before so it really is no wonder that he's so accustomed to being the center of things.

"Truth," Lucas starts, props his feet up on the seats across from him, "What did you think of the movie?"

Haley sighs, "It's different than the book, but then again that's usually the case. I liked it. Doesn't stray too far from reality." she says, "I'm proud of you, Luke. Book content aside, I really am. You've done good."

"Means a lot coming from you, Hales."

"But—"

"Ugh, I _knew_ there was a but coming!"

Haley rolls her eyes, "_Buuuut_," she continues, "It shouldn't be all about your career. You're really successful, but you don't seem truly happy. I say this with love: you need to get your act together. Starting with dropping the scotch-for-breakfast routine you seem to be so fond of lately, and cleaning out your apartment. If you ever expect Brooke to let Jax stay in that bedroom you made up for him, you need to step up. And clean up your act—Jesus, even _Em_ can tell your place is sty."

"I know. Brooke came over last night and...well, it felt like progress. I wanna do better. For her and for Jax. And I will. I won't mess it up this time." Lucas sighs, "Look, Jess got us a room at Sunset Tower, but I'm thinking if we gun it to LA X now, we can be home five hours."

Haley smiles, "_Home_." she says, "Home sounds pretty good right about now."

Lucas slides down the partition window, "Don," he calls out to the driver, "Change of plans, we're headed to LA X." he throws an arm around the copper-haired mother's shoulders, "We're goin' home."

_There's no place like Home_.

**-xx-**

Clay uses the master key to let himself into Brooke Davis' penthouse at the Imperial. Such are the perks of being the owner of the palatial hotel.

He finds the brunette curled up on the couch, her sketchpad resting against her lap. The surprise in her hazel eyes is obvious, "Clay!"

"I'm not here to make up," Clay says icily, "I need to talk to Rachel. Figure out how we're gonna handle this."

As if evoked, Rachel walks out of the bedroom just then. "What're you doing here?" She immediately takes the defensive—it's _instinct_.

"What do you think?" Clay shoots back. "I'm here about my son. Look, I talked to Jake and—"

Rachel cuts him off right then and there, "Oh my god—you called your _lawyer_ into this?" she asks in disbelief, "What the hell where you _thinking_?"

"I was thinking that you already hid the kid from me for almost three years, and I better fuckin' lawyer up so I can know what my options are!"

And that sets the redhead's alarm off, fighting like protective lioness over her cub. Brooke watches her two best friends go at each other and it just pisses her off—it's like living with her parents all over again, and she did _not_ sign up for this shit.

"WE ARE GOING BACK TO L.A."

"YOU ARE _NOT_ TAKIN' MY KID ACROSS STATE LINES!"

"WHAT'RE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT?"

"WHATEVER THE FUCK I _HAVE TO_—I'VE ALREADY MISSED THREE YEARS, I WON'T MISS ANYTHING ELSE!"

It's like a live version of a Kanye West song—_let's play the blame game for sure. let's call out names, names. I hate you, more_.

The brunette jumps to her feet, steps in between the feuding pair and shoves them apart, "_ENOUGH_!" she hisses, and walks into the bedroom. Seconds later she's back, this time she has Christopher in her arms, "C-Robb," she tells the toddler as she moves to stand next to Clay.

"_Brooke_." There's something akin to a warning in the redhead's tone.

Brooke sets Christopher down on the floor and kneels down in front of him. She rests her forehead against her nephew's, locks eyes with him the way she always does when she's being serious with the kid. "Christopher," she starts, "Y'know how kids have a mommy and a daddy? Well, this is _your_ Daddy. His name is Clay." She looks at Clay now, "Clay, this is Christopher Robert Gatina-Evans."

Clay gulps and kneels down, too. For the first time he _really_ notices the resemblances between himself and the boy: the cobalt-blue eyes, the spiky unruly hair, and the teasing lopsided grin. "Hey, kiddo," he says, "I-I'm you Dad."

Christopher eyes him curiously for a few beats, "Wanna play?" And he doesn't wait for an answer, grips Clay's large hand and pulls him toward the bedroom where he's already unpacked his extensive collection of Marvel and DC Comics action figures—everything from Superman and Flash to the X-Men and Iron Man.

"_Wolverine's my favorite_." They overhear Clay say.

"I can't believe you just did that." Rachel says, her arms crossed over her chest, gaze unwavering from where her son plays with his father.

Brooke holds her ground, "Someone had to." she states, "And it should've been _you_."

Disbelief colors the redhead's question, "Are you taking Clay's side on this?"

"There _are_ no sides!" Brooke replies heatedly, "At least there shouldn't be. There should be Chris, and both you and Clay doing what's best for _him_."

Rachel shakes her head slightly, "Spare me the mother-knows-best routine, alright?" she hisses, "Look at what you're doing with Lucas and tell me that's good for Jax—I fuckin' dare you."

"Lucas is mess. He is going through—"

Rachel cuts her off, "And Clay _isn_'t!" she says, "I had to fly across the country to pick him off of the floor."

"His father just died and left him with a shitload of unresolved issues" Brooke defends her best friend, "I'd like to see how you'd react under the same pressure. As I recall, you have a shitload of baggage with your dad, too."

"Oh, like _you_'re really one to talk about Daddy Issues."

Brooke rolls her eyes, turns to face her friend, "Can we not do _this_ right now?" she gesticulates between them, "I love you, and I love Clay, and I love Christopher. I was trying to help."

"He called a lawyer, B." Rachel faces the brunette now, the worry in her eyes evident, "I won't lose Chris. I _can_'t."

Brooke places her hands on the redhead's shoulders, "He called _Jake_," she amends, "And you won't lose Chris—you'll _never_ lose Chris. No one's losing anyone. If anything, Chris is _gaining_ a father. And as we've just made clear, it's best when kids don't grow up with Daddy Issues."

Rachel takes a deep breath, in and out, in and out. "I need to know I can count on you, Brooke." she says seriously, "I...need to know you're on my corner."

And for the first time ever, Brooke hesitates before answering. Because not once had she imagined that Clay and Rachel might be on opposites corners. "You know you have me." she says, and the pause doesn't go unnoticed by Rachel.

After a while Rachel steps into the bedroom, knocks on the doorframe, "Goober, it's bath-time."

Christopher pouts, "Don't wanna!" he exclaims, "I wanna play!"

"I know, but it's already way past your usual bath-time _and_ your bedtime." Rachel has learned that it's best not to be flexible when it comes to Chris because he will work the pout and the puppy dog eyes to con her into anything. "So say goodnight to...your Dad." she clears her throat, "You can play tomorrow."

"Okay." Chris jumps to his feet, wraps his little arms around Clay, "'Night, Daddy." The word rolls easily off his tongue, already accepting Clay as his father the same way he'd accept a new toy.

It's always easier when you're younger, Rachel thinks, and she doesn't know if she's relieved or upset over Christopher's willing acceptance of his father into his life.

Clay watches mother and son disappear into the bathroom and steps out into the living room. Brooke is back curled up on the couch, her sketchpad still in her lap as she finishes her latest sketches. "Thanks." he tells her, "For before. Thank you."

"You know you don't have to thank me, Clay." Brooke sets the sketchpad aside, stands up and moves to stand in front of him. "Look, I know things are really messed up, but I'd never set out to hurt you. You _know_ that. I was just..." she sighs, "It was a hard situation, and I tried to do what I thought was right."

Clay licks his lips, eyes his best friend of twenty-six years seriously, "I get it. I do. But...I can't get over what you did. No matter what, you were always the one person I could trust—my sister, my soul mate, my best friend. But I can't see you like that now." he shakes his head sadly, "You were supposed to be the only person who'd never hurt me like this, and now I don't know what I believe anymore."

"Clay—"

"I'm not saying we're done for good." Clay's not stupid enough to think that Brooke could ever be completely out of his life. "I'm just saying I...I don't see you—_us_—like we used to be. And I don't know how to get it back. Not right now." he sighs, "Look, tell Rachel I had to go. But I'll call her tomorrow. And...I didn't mean the lawyer stuff, okay? I just, I wanna know my kid. I want to be a part of his life."

Brooke nods, "Yeah. I'll tell her." She blinks away the tears as she watches his disappear into the elevator, "Clay!" she calls out. His hand stops the doors from closing, and they stare at each other for a beat. "I really am sorry."

"I know." And then the doors close and he's gone.

Rachel doesn't come out until Christopher is all tucked in. She plops down on the couch next to Brooke who proceeds to inform her that Clay will talk to her tomorrow. It appeases the redhead to some degree to know that he wasn't really serious about lawyering up.

Brooke doesn't say anything else, and Rachel doesn't push her to see if Clay and her had made up—deep down she knows it'll take a while for them all to bounce back from this one.

(If they ever to bounce back at all.)

Hours slip by like minutes and the sun is coming out when Brooke jumps to her feet. "I have to go." she announces suddenly.

"Where?" Rachel stands up, too. "Brooke, it's like five in the morning. Where're you going?" she follows the brunette, watches as she calls down for a car, grabs Jax's baby bag, and settles a sleeping Jax into his carrier. "Brooke!" she repeats forcefully, "Where are you going?"

Brooke grabs her purse, faces her friend, "I can't _stay_ _here_ right now. Clay...he might not forgive for this, okay? And I...I cannot be here right now." Her voice is somewhat shaky, and she feels like she can't breathe in the apartment anymore, "You can stay here until you have to go back to L.A. You leave on Saturday, right? You can crash here with Chris until then." With those parting words, she gets into the elevator, presses the Lobby button frantically, "I'll call you later."

"Brooke!" Rachel rushes to stop her, to stop the elevator, but the doors close and Brooke's gone.

Rachel rubs her suddenly aching temples and groans, "_Fuck_!"

**-xx-**

Lucas hasn't slept in what feels like forever now—he still hates plane rides, something about flying freaks him out.

His loft is more or less tidied up now, at least enough so that the maid won't run screaming when she comes in during the weekend. The brooder stands in front of the bar that forms part of his living room's decoration. He boxes up all the bottles—scotch, vodka, tequila—and stashes them under lock and key.

Party days are over now. Time to be a grown up.

_DING-DONG_! _DING-DONG_!

Just as he's about to take off what's left of his J. Press suit and crawl into bed, his doorbell starts ringing repeatedly. A glance at the clock reveals that it's fifteen past six and he wonders who the fuck does he know that gets up this early.

For a second time in two days, he loses his breath at the sight of Brooke Davis at his front door. And this time she has Jax with her. "Hey," Lucas immediately steps aside to let them inside, "What's wrong? Is everything okay?"

Brooke presses a finger to her lips in a shh-motion, points to a fast asleep Jax. Lucas jerks his head upstairs, towards the bedroom he'd set up for their boy long ago. The brunette says nothing, simply goes upstairs and sets Jax down in the brand-new crib. She strokes his chocolate-colored locks for a second before going back downstairs.

Lucas waits for her by the foot of the stairs, "What's goin' on?" he asks expectantly, concern in those warm navy-blue yes of his.

Brooke sighs, licks her lips, "I can't stay home. It doesn't..." her voice trails off and she wraps her arms around herself, "I just can't. And I didn't know where else to go."

"You can stay here." Lucas tells her, "I cleaned up and everything."

"Thanks, Luke."

"Don't mention it." Lucas flashes her a comforting smile, "How'd you know I was back so quickly?"

Brooke flashes him a half-smile in return, "I _didn_'t." she says, "I just hoped you'd be here."

Lucas steps closer to her, pulls her into a tight hug, "I'm always here for you." he assures her. And he's said it before, but he'll say it as many times as she needs to hear it. "_Always_."


	6. Forgiveness and Stuff

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the newly fixed Mac in which I wrote this on…**

**AN: So. Here's the next one. There's a few vague flashbacks in this one and some B/L fluff just 'cause I'm in that kind of mood. Let me know whatcha think, dudes.**

**Breakin' All The Rules**

Forgiveness and Stuff  
(Venus, Cupid, Folly & Time)

**-xx-**

_"I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine."  
_

_―Jane Austen  
_

_**-xx-**_

Brooke slides off her jeans and shirt, and folds them neatly before slipping on an old Duke basketball t-shirt. The t-shirt has a distinct smell (Downy mixed with Polo and just a _hint_ of something illegal) that instantly makes her feel at home.

(And she realizes then: She's done this before, too many times to count. There's comfort in old routines.)

So she climbs into bed with Luke and snuggles up to him. He throws his arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer, kisses the top of her head, "Sweet dreams, Pretty Girl." he whispers.

"G'night, Broody." Brooke presses herself closer to him, longing for his body heat.

Lucas feels every inch of his skin humming at the contact, "I love you."

"Lucas," Brooke's hazel eyes zoom in on the ceiling "Can we not do this right now?" she asks softly.

Lucas doesn't want to wait, wants to say these things now because he's come to learn that sometimes the moment slips away, and you can't ever get it back. But he also doesn't want to push her into a conversation she doesn't want to have. Knows the brunette well enough to know that it'll get him nowhere. "Okay." he says, "But I do. Love you, I mean."

Brooke blinks, "I know."

And with that, they both drift off to a peaceful sleep. And later they'll chalk it up to being so tired from the grueling day, but really it might be that they always sleep better when they know they're together.

Morning arrives faster than Lucas would've expected it to—but hey, they did got to bed at 6 a.m. when the sun was already coming out.

Jax starts crying at 8:30 a.m. and Lucas crawls out of bed without waking up Brooke. "Hey, buddy," he lifts his son out of the crib and rests him against his shoulder, "Daddy's here. C'mon, you hungry? Lets get ya some milk."

Lucas is surprisingly adept at this routine—warming up the milk, prepping up the bottle. He'd done it with Emma back in the day, and he still remembers how it all works.

Jax, however, isn't that impressed by his father's abilities. He sits in his carrier and stares his father down, refuses to drink from the bottle.

Lucas eyes the milk bottle, "Hey, I get it," he sighs, "I like your mommy's knockers better, too." Wonders if maybe he shouldn't make those jokes to his three-month-old son, but shakes it off. "C'mon, dude. Work with me here. I wanna show Mom that I can take care of you, too. Alright," he sighs, tosses the bottle from hand to hand. This elicits a smile from the previously stoic Jax. "Ah, you like that? Huh, I knew all that time at the bar would pay off eventually," He tosses the bottle over his left shoulder and catches it behind his back with his right hand, then twirls it around a few more times. This time Jax happily drinks the milk. "There we go."

It's all smooth sailing after that—Jax downs the bottle, Lucas burps him, Jax settles back into sleep, and Lucas tucks him back into his crib. He grins at the sight, thinks that maybe he can do this after all. It feels _right_.

He plops down on the living room couch, props his feet against the coffee table. He sits forward and pushes the upper right corner of the table in to open up the drawer and pulls out a black velvet box.

**-xx-**

_It's _Impulse_'s fifth consecutive week in the New York Times Bestseller list, and Lucas has just arrived in New York City after completing a wildly successful book tour._

_Lucas Scott feels like he's on top of the world right now._

_So, he goes out and buys a ring—_

_Tiffany's because that's where Audrey Hepburn goes,_

_A sparkling diamond because according to Marilyn Monroe those are a girl's best friend,_

_And a setting with an antique style because Brooke Davis loves all things vintage—_

_—Lucas Scott knows his woman _very_ well._

_He arrives at the Empire Hotel where they're currently living and is greeted by a horde of paparazzi. They've been hounding him (them) for over a month now, since before the book was officially published. He mutters no comment repeatedly and shoves his way into the building._

_When he opens the door to his suite, a copy of the_ National Enquirer_ flies over his shoulder having missed his head by only a few inches. Brooke immediately corrects her aim as the copy of _Impulse_ she tosses next hits the brooder square on in the forehead._

_(Thank God it's the fuckin' paperback.)_

_"DO YOU SEE WHAT'S HAPPENING!" Brooke yells at him—_welcome home, honey_._

_And just like that Lucas Scott doesn't feel like he's on top of the world anymore._

_Lucas skillfully dodges an ashtray headed towards his head, "Aye, will you fuckin' _quit it_!" he howls, "It's not my fault they're out there."_

_"My ass it isn't!" Brooke hisses at him, "If it weren't for your stupid book we wouldn't be in this shit-storm right now!"_

_Despite the multiple pleas, the only one who read Lucas' book before it was launched was his agent Jess Mariano. Needless to say that it took everyone—Brooke, Nate, Haley, Jake, Peyton, Rachel & Clay—by surprise when they realized that they were all in it. The more-or-less too in depth retelling of their years at Duke and all the dirt going on behind the scenes of Dan Scott's senatorial campaign._

_The book was an instant hit—sex, drugs, lurid affairs and political scandal. It's just what the people want._

_Lucas sighs, runs a hand through his flaxen locks, "Look, the rumors will die down," he tells Brooke, his tone gentler as he moves towards her, his palms raised in a peace gesture, "And then we'll get back to normal." he cradles her face in his hands, presses a kiss to her forehead, "I'm really jet-lagged, and you must've just gotten in." The brunette is barefoot, still wearing her Valentino dress. "I don't wanna fight. Lets just get into bed and get some rest, alright?"_

_A part of Brooke knows Lucas never meant to cause so much drama with the novel. And another part can't believe he had the nerve to publish that without talking it over with her first. "Yeah. Alright." But she's tired—of fighting, of the press hounds, of him being gone—and he's here now, so she'll give._

_Lucas pulls the ring-box out of his coat and stashes it in his desk's drawer. Now is not the right time for a proposal. He'll do it later. They have the time._

_And there'll be a perfect moment for asking Brooke Davis to be with him forever._

_Resting is the last thing they do in bed._

_Lucas' fingers roam the brunette's chocolate locks while their lips mold against each other's like clay. As they kiss, Brooke slips a hand beneath the Egyptian cotton sheets and then beneath Lucas' boxers to wrap around him._

_He pulls away from her lips, lets out a primal groan, "_Brooke_."_

_Brooke presses a kiss to his neck, then leaves a trail of kisses all the way down his chest and tugs at the elastic waistband of Lucas' briefs with her teeth and—oh. holy. shit.—_welcome home, honey, indeed_._

_No matter what, _this_ is the part of their relationship they're always good at._

_But then it changes. They don't talk as much as they yell. They fight too much and don't make up enough. And then they can't even be in the same room together for more than fifteen minutes._

_Lucas drinks more scotch than water these days, and Brooke is always throwing shit at his head (from plates to vases to ashtrays), and whatever it was that used to work between them just doesn't seem to work anymore._

_It's Brooke who ends it. She knows all too well that when they break they don't explode—they _implode.

_And she knows that if they keep dragging this out neither of them will make out unscathed._

_Brooke packs her bags and calls Clay, he arranges the penthouse at the Imperial for her._

_Lucas calls his manager and tells him he wants to buy someplace—a loft. Doesn't want to stay at the Empire anymore._

_As break-ups go, it's fairly civil. (Mostly because there's not much left to break.)_

_And Lucas never does get to give her the ring._

**-xx-**

"The moments just slip away..." Lucas mutters to himself as he carefully places the ring back into the drawer and clicks it closed.

"What moments?" asks Brooke as walks towards him, sits down next to him on the couch.

Lucas smiles, shakes his head slightly, "Nothin'. Just musing out loud." he says, "How'd you sleep?"

"Good. Jax hasn't woken up?"

Lucas nods, "Yeah. I gave him a bottle and he went right back to sleep."

"You took care of him?"

The Brooder rolls his eyes, "She said with so much surprise," he jests. "Yeah. I took care of him. And I didn't even have to duck-tape the diaper or anything."

Brooke slaps his chest lightly, "Y'know what I mean," she says with a smile, "Thanks for lettin' us crash here. I don't really wanna go back to the Imperial yet. Maybe we can check in at the Palace or the Empire. I don't want to intrude or anything."

"B., you know you're never intruding with me," Lucas nudges her, "You can both stay for as long as you need to. I like havin' you guys here. And I've missed waking up with you."

Brooke flashes him a dimpled smile, "Thanks, Luke." she sighs, casts her eyes to her perfectly manicured hands, "About last night. What you said. I love you, too."

"I know you do."

Brooke sighs, "But all the things that pulled us apart before, they're still there. I just... If we're going to go down this road again, I need to know that you feel the same way that I do. That you can see yourself doing this with me forever. Because if you can't commit to this—if you can't commit to _us_, to Jax and me—then what're we doing? Just...what are we doing?" Lucas presses his lips against her own, but the brunette pulls back. "What do you want?"

"_You_." The Brooder assures her heatedly, drops a kiss on the nape of her neck.

Brooke rolls her eyes, "I'm serious." she tells him, "What do you_ really_ want?"

"_You_." Lucas replies obstinately, "This is me being serious. _You_ are what I want. What I've always wanted. I want us to be a family again. You, me, Jax. And I know it's a long road back, but we'll get there. I'm gonna fight like hell for us. Because there is nothing I want more." he licks his lips, "What do _you_ want?"

Brooke smiles that dimpled smile, "_Us_."

"Always one-upping me, aren't you?" Lucas asks teasingly, "It took me a long time to figure it out, but there's really only thing I want. What I've always wanted in my life. And I can't believe I was ever stupid enough to let it slip through my fingers."

Brooke smirks, "Neither can I." she says, "I'm a catch."

"Hey, I won't argue that," Lucas runs his fingers through her chocolate locks, turns serious, "This is real, right?" he asks, "It's not just because you're lonely now that you and Clay are falling apart, and you need _someone_."

If she's honest, a part of it does have to do with what's going on with Clay—Brooke doesn't want her and Lucas to end up like Clay and Rachel, doesn't want to wake up three years from now and realize that Jax doesn't know his father. "It's real."

And maybe (just maybe), third time will be the charm for them.

**-xx-**

Nate walks down the crowded New York streets, iPod headphones placed in his ears with the latest Kanye album blaring through them. He slides his Wayfarers down from his hair, thinks '_New York is _fuckin' hot_ in the summer_'.

He's bored now—

Pissed at Rachel,

Dodging Brooke's calls just _because_,

Not talking to Clay—or maybe Clay's not talking to him.

Who the fuck can keep up these days?

He ponders if maybe he should cut his losses and go back to L.A. Start working out for the next season. His contract's up this year, and Wilke is negotiating it now. He should cut his losses and get back to doing what he does best.

Silently, Nate thanks the gods that there is literally a Starbucks on every street corner and orders himself a frappuccino.

He spins around and a girl knocks into him, drops her coffee and papers during the process. "Shit! Sorry, my bad." he kneels down like a gentleman to help her gather her stuff.

"Oh, crap!" The girl exclaims as she quickly gathers up her now coffee-stained term paper.

Nate stands up and glances at the girl up and down: long dark-brown hair that matches her dark-brown eyes and legs that seem to go on forever from the boots to all the way under that short skirt, "Hey, gorgeous." he greets with a smirk, "You alright?"**  
**

The girl turns to look at the guy and checks him out: that messy-yet-neat black hair and bad-boy smirk. He holds an iPod in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. "Uh, hi," she greets back, seemingly uninterested. "Yeah, I'm fine. God, sorry I bumped into you like that. Did I spill anything on you?"

"Nah, I'm good," Nate replies, "And it's fine really, you don't have to call me God. Just Nate will do." He couldn't resist the quip—she'd walked herself right into that one.

The girl rolls her eyes, "Oh, really original," she says, "Quite the comedian, aren't you?"

"Fair enough, let me try that again: hey, I'm Nate," he extends his hand out for her to shake, "And you are?"

She stares at his hand tentatively for a second before shaking it, "Spencer Hastings."

"Well, Spencer, you look like you're headed somewhere," Nate says with that easy charm of his, "Can I walk with you?"

Spencer eyes him curiously, "My mother always told me I shouldn't walk with strangers."

"I'm pretty sure that's about cars—you shouldn't get into cars with strangers." Nate amends, "And this is New York City, nobody has a car—we have taxis." he smirks when that manages to coerce a little smile from her, "Ah—the girl _can_ smile! Y'know what, you spilled your coffee and you look like the kind of girl who bleeds caffeine. So, what's your poison? I'll buy you another cup and walk you over to..." his voice trails off while he sneaks a peak at the front cover of the binder in her hands, "Columbia Law School? Nice. I like smart girls."

Spencer rolls her eyes at him, "And I like smart guys—which is why I'm not sure we'd be a good match."

"You wound me," Nate says, places his hand over his heart as if she's somehow hurt him forever.

Spencer smirks, "Does that usually work for you?"

"Yeah," Nate answers, "But I've got a feeling you're about to low the scoring average for most of my lines," he flashes her an enticing grin, "C'mon, let me keep _some_ of my pride here."

She caves after a few seconds when she gives him the wounded puppy-dog look, "I was drinking a venti caramel frappuccino with two extra shots."

This prompts Nate to grin even wider, "Small world, so am I." he surrenders his coffee cup over to her, "All yours, I haven't even put a straw in it yet." he pulls the straw he'd tucked behind his ear and hands it to her. "It's the true gentleman who'll sacrifice his coffee for a lady."

Spencer relents and takes the coffee cup, "All right, Charming," she says, "Lets go. I have half an hour to print that paper up again and then turn it in."

Nate opens the crystal door for her to walk through, "Lead the way, Spencer Hastings," and then he follows her outside.

Thinks maybe staying in New York for the off season isn't be such a bad idea—the girls here are _hot_.

And he can see himself having some fun in the city.

**-xx-**

Rachel leaves Chris with Vanessa the babysitter and heads towards Clay's suite.

Brooke continues to dodge both her calls and her texts, but Rachel figures the brunette will pop up soon enough seeing as she left without so much as a change of clothes.

The redhead shoves the thoughts out of her mind, and knocks on Clay's door, waits patiently for him to open up.

Clay opens his door, furrows his brow in surprise, "Rachel...?"

"Christopher was born in L.A. at St. Ambrose hospital. Your name is on the birth certificate." Rachel hands him a copy. She's all business right now. "His birthday's January 7th, so he's turning three in 6 months. He'll answer to Chris faster than he'll answer to Christopher—a lot like you that way, doesn't like going by his full name. He loves comics and superheroes, and he is ridiculously smart. Now, I'm leaving for L.A. in three days. And in case it wasn't clear, I'm taking Chris home with me. That being said, he is your son. You have a right to see him, to be a part of his life."

Clay fumbles with the paper in his hand, "Uh...alright," he says, "So how does this work now?"

"I don't know." Rachel shrugs, "My job is in L.A. I've started my residency, and..._our_ life—Chris' and mine—is there. You can come visit, maybe we can split the holidays."

Clay nods, "Um, he's too little for preschool, right? I mean, who watches him when you're...off being a doctor?" he sees the glare in the redhead's eyes, "I'm not saying you're incompetent, I'm just curious. Besides knowing that he has Green Lantern PJs and prefers Gambit to Wolverine, I don't really know much."

"St. Ambrose has daycare." Rachel answers, "But most days he stays with Mom and Aunt Amy."

Clay hums, "And how are Addie and Amelia doin' these days?"

"Pretty good, all things considered."

"They know I'm the father?"

"Yes." Rachel says, "Mother wasn't thrilled."

Clay frowns, "I thought Addie liked me," there's a question in his tone.

"No—_Aunt Amy_ likes you. She has a thing for the bad influences," Rachel replies, "Mom's not fond of game-players."

"You think I'm a _player_?"

Rachel rolls her eyes, "I think your tack record speaks for itself." She decides to cut the small talk, "Look, I want to make one thing clear: you promise _nothing_ you can't deliver. If you tell Chris you're going to be there, you better damn well show up. He is the one _truly_ good thing I've done in my life, and I will not have him hurt. You get what I'm saying?"

Clay licks his lips, "I won't let him down." he says harshly, "I am _not_ my father."

"I hope not."

"You _know_ I'm not." Clay's fists ball up, anger building up inside of him. His father has always been a sore subject, even more so now that he's passed. And Rachel _knows_ that. "So don't even go there."

Rachel nods as if to say _fair enough_, "Speaking of going there," she adds, "Do I need to call a lawyer or can we handle this ourselves?"

Clay can practically hear Jake's voice: ..._it's my legal opinion that you should _not_ take this matter to court. This is something you can handle in-house._ "Yeah." he says, "We can handle this ourselves. No need to lawyer up."

"Good." Rachel nods, her defenses lowering only slightly, "Um, we're leaving after Dexter's birthday party. You're going, right?"

Clay nods, "Already bought D. a gift and everything."

"Then we will see you there. Now, I'm going out. I was gonna take Chris with me, but...maybe you want to spend the afternoon with him?"

Clay grins his trademark lopsided grin, "I'd love to."

"C'mon." Rachel and Clay head up to Brooke's penthouse, tell Vanessa she's free for the day, and Rachel tells Chris that he gets to spend the rest of the day with Daddy.

Both Clay and Chris seem thrilled by the idea.

Rachel puts on a smile, but her stomach is in knots—this isn't what she's used to. "Hey," she calls out from the elevator, "Cut B. some slack, will you? I...back then, I didn't leave her much of a choice. She's always wanted to tell you."

And then she's gone.

**-xx-**

Dexter and Emma sit on the living room couch, their feet propped up on the coffee table, and Xbox controllers on their hands as they continue an intense game of Halo 4.

Jake is sitting at his desk reading a book in between glancing at legal briefs on his Mac Book. He sets his copy of _Hell's Angels_ aside for a second, glances at his kids and grins at the sight. He likes having them both, remembers a time when it was them and Haley he came home to.

He wonders for the umpteenth time if he should invite Haley to Dexter's birthday party, knows Dexter and Emma would love it if she came. He pulls out his cell phone and hits the new text button.

**To: Haley Jaglieski** (—yeah, he still hasn't changed it. It's only been a few months since the divorce.)

_Dex's party 2morrow at noon. Wanna come?_

The reply comes almost instantly, but the wait still seems to take forever.

**From: Haley Jaglieski**

_Wow. I'd love 2. U sure?_

Jake smiles, replies back one single word:

_YES_.

**-xx-**

_"Haley," Jake says, his voice somewhat shaky, "Are you sure?"_

_The tears that Haley has been struggling to hold at bay flow out freely now. "What?" The damn has been broken, and she doesn't even try to stop the waterworks._

_"O-once we do this, there's no goin' back," Jake says, "Once the papers are signed, we're officially over. Haley, I...I thought we'd always be together—"_

_"—so did I."_

_"Then, are you sure?"_

_"I have to be. We can't keep doing this. This in-between we're living—not together, but not apart. We can't keep putting Emma through that. Or Dexter. They both deserve better than the constant fighting and yelling and Nicki showing up hopped up at whatever hour. We can't stay in limbo forever."_

_Jake sighs, "There's good stuff here." he reaches for her hands, "I just...I don't know if we should walk away."_

_"I don't want to hurt you." Haley admits, grips his hand as if it were a lifeline._

_"Then don't." Jake says pleadingly, "I know we still love each other."_

_Haley shakes her head, "It's not that simple. And I don't know if love is enough anymore."_

_"But I do love you, Hales. I love us, our family. I'm not ready for it to end."_

_Truthfully, they'd been on pause for a while now. Jake had moved out, had been crashing on Sam Winchester's couch for the past three months. Nicki was always lurking in the background, ready to yank whatever stability they managed to get by going on another bender and wreaking havoc. It wasn't healthy anymore—the back and forth—and the kids were wondering what was going on, Dexter seemed to be eager to shoulder the blame for things, and it was too much._

_Haley sighs, pulls her hands away from Jake's "I know." she assures him, "But I just can't do this anymore."_

_And with a shaky hand she signs the divorce papers._

**-xx-**

Clay walks into the reception of Evans Plaza with Chris in his arms and hops onto the elevator to get to his office. He guesses this is pretty much the opposite of containment mode since people are gonna wonder who the kid is and someone is bound to leak it out to the press, but fuck it—

He's not ashamed of having a son.

"Hey, Hannah," he greets his secretary with a grin, "Any messages?"

Hannah nods, hands him a stack of papers, "Nothing too pressing," she says, "The _Spectator _called—they want to set up an interview—and the Board wanted to remind of the quarterly meeting. Also some guy named James Wilkerson, III called to talk about next season's contracts, but he wanted me to assure you that—and I quote—he has got this shit handled. Want me to call him back?"

Clay chuckles—that sounds like Wilke alright. "Nah, next time _James_ calls tell him to quit bein' such a douche with my assistant. He was pulling your leg, Hann. And he goes by Wilke, by the way." he says, "And while we're on the subject of introductions, this is Christopher. My son."

"Wow! Hey, kiddo," Surprise colors the assistant's features, but she covers it up nicely and high-fives the toddler, "Nice to meet you. My name is Hannah. If you need anything around here, I can hook you up."

Christopher grins, "Cool."

Clay sets him down and kneels in front of him, "Rockstar, why don't-cha head into my office?" he suggests, "Feel free to play with whatever you want." That's enough of an invitation for Chris, and he runs inside.

"Uh, Boss..." Hannah eyes him curiously, "What's with the kid?"

"What do ya mean?"

Hannah scoffs, "I mean that two days ago, you didn't have a kid." she clarifies, "And now you have one. Who's, what, three? He grew up mighty fast."

"I just found out about him." Clay sighs, "He's amazing. I mean, I know I'm pretty biased, but he is by far the coolest, smartest two-year-old ever!" he exclaims, "And I'm not gonna hide him. What do you think I should do?"

Hannah ponders it for a beat, "Call Archibald and set up that interview at the _Spectator_—they've always liked you over there, and they're the only paper that didn't slander you after the funeral. Beat the press to it, but don't make it the point of the article. Talk about the future of Evans Enterprises and your plans as the new CEO, and casually sneak in that you wanted you son to be with you during these hard times."

"You think that'll work?" Clay asks.

"If there's one thing I've learned while working here, it's this: the cover-up is always worse than the lie." Hannah replies, "Now, all issues aside, he is a very cute kid."

"Thanks, Hann," Clay says, "Um, call the _Spectator_ and set everything up for tomorrow, will you?" And then he heads into his office.

Christopher stands in front of the glass curtain wall, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. "I can see _everythin_'!"

Clay is temporarily stunned by the comment—he'd said something similar to his father when he was that age. "Yeah, little man," he says, "City's all ours. You like it?" Christopher only nods, continues to stare out at the impressive New York City skyline.

It's déjà-vu because Clay can recall saying something like that to his father when he was younger. He can remember thinking that his father was the most impressive man in the entire world.

Clay sneaks a glance at himself in the mirror. He's dressed in what his father would've described as a derelict Abercrombie & Fitch model: well-worn Chucks, dark True Religion jeans, and a black John Varvatos t-shirt.

And he wonders what the great Bradford Evans would've said about Christopher, how he would've felt about being a grandfather. Probably disappointment because that was his default emotion whenever it came to Clay.

Clay glances at a copy of yesterday's newspaper lying on his desk. The headline reads: **CLAYTON EVANS READY TO STAND AS CEO OF EVANS ENTERPRISES**.

Clay smirks sadly, "Am I good enough now, dad?" he whispers into the air.

And he can practically hear Brad Evans whisper in his ear: '_Clay Evans stands behind it. What's that worth_?'

Clay shakes it off, focus on his son once more, "You like basketball?" he picks up Chris and sets him down on a chair in front of the NBA Bonus Arcade hoop, "C'mon, I'll show you how to throw a killer fadeaway."

Christopher grins a lopsided grin, watches attentively as his dad makes the shot and hands him a little basketball. Clay sees it in his son's eyes just then: he's looking at him as if he is the most impressive man in the entire world.

And that's when it dawns on him: he is _not_ Bradford Evans. And he doesn't want to be.

Chris lands a shot, "I made it!" he exclaims, jumps into his father's arms.

"Yeah, you did," Clay hugs the little boy tightly, "I'm really proud of you, kiddo."

—Clayton Evans is going to be a better father than Bradford Evans ever was.

**-xx-**

It's fifteen past two and Brooke and Lucas have spent the entire day together in his loft.

It's new and familiar all at the same time—having Jax appears to have a soothing effect on both of them. Brooke feels at home here, and it's comfortable.

At least for now.

She's well aware that they'll have to leave their comfy bubble and head out into the real world soon enough.

"Aye, no more!" Lucas exclaims as he tries to steal the remote away from her, "If you keep watchin' the _House_ marathon, soon enough you'll start diagnosing me with weird diseases because of a cough."

Brooke shoves his face away playfully, "Yah, well, we're not gonna spend the rest of the day watching ESPN." she tells him, "C'mon! Don't be a bully, Luke," she flashes him the pout.

"Alright, then," Lucas surrenders, "But that means I get to decide what we order—and I'm picking chinese!"

Brooke's pout is back with full force, "No way!" she whines, "I told you I wanted thai!"

"Tough shit, babe," Lucas leans forward to press a quick kiss to her lips and grab the phone, which is behind her, "This ain't BK, you can't have it all your way."

"I'll remember _that_ later." The mischievous spark in her hazel eyes and the warning in her tone tells Lucas that she's talking about sex, and he knows that bogarting the food choice will cost him later, but he doesn't care. He isn't about to lose any more territory to the brunette.

This is good. This is familiar. This is _them_—never wanting to agree, always negotiating—

"I'll get an extra bag of fortune cookies," he offers.

Brooke giggles in that five-year-old way of hers and nods, "Alright then,"

—And they wouldn't want it any other way.

They order from Adam's (like Lucas wanted), and eat the Moo Goo Gai Pan and the dumplings and the Kung Pao chicken, and then they proceed to down the extra bag of fortune cookies (like Brooke wanted), and make up their own kinky sex-like predictions.

Jax wakes up again, and they sit with him on the couch. The couple face each other from opposite ends of the couch, Jax sitting in Lucas' lap while Brooke engages him a game of peek-a-boo.

"You need to talk to Clay," Lucas reiterates—they've been bouncing back and forth on the subject all throughout the peek-a-boo game.

Brooke peeks from behind her hands causing Jax to smile, "He's _avoiding me_," she replies, "I'm not gonna stalk him."

"You're not you when you're fighting with Clay." And this right here is proof of just how much Lucas loves Brooke Davis—he's willing to push for her to make up with Clay, who Lucas still finds incredibly annoying. "You know you're dying to see him so you can gab like gossips."

"That's neither here nor there." Brooke answers with an eye-roll.

Lucas stands up, cradles Jax in his arms, "I think he's ready to get back to bed." he says, "_Call him_." he tosses her his BlackBerry.

Brooke ponders it for a second, settles on composing a text.

**To: C. Evans**

_I'm back 2gether w/Luc._  
_I miss U._

About three minutes pass by before the BlackBerry is buzzing with an incoming call. "Clay?"

"_Hey, B._,"

Brooke's dimpled smile appears automatically, "I can't believe you called me back."

"_Eh_, _I miss you, too. What else was I gonna do_?" Clay sighs, they don't flow exactly like they used to, but at least they're talking now. "_I spent the entire day with Chris. He's awesome. I think I love him—y'know, in that way our parents never loved us_."

"Well, he's a rockin' kid, what's not to love?" Brooke feels proud of him, of how quickly he's stepping up to be a father, "You goin' with him down to the party tomorrow?"

"_Yeah. I talked to Rae. I think we're working things out_." Clay says, pauses for a beat, "_So, you and Luke together again, huh_?"

Brooke nods even though he can't see her, "Yeah. I think we're in it for keeps this time around."

"_You happy_?"

"I think so."

Clay nods even though she can't see him, "_Good_." he says, "_He breaks your heart or Jax's, and I promise to kick his brooding ass_."

"That's sweet. Thank you." Brooke replies, "See ya tomorrow?"

"_You got it. Goodnight, Dimples._"

"Goodnight, Dopey," Brooke says before hitting the END button.

Lucas studies her from the stairs, "Feel better now?" he asks.

"Getting there," Brooke answers, taps the spot next to her on the couch, "Get over here, Broody!"

Lucas jumps over the couch and lands next to her. Brooke cuddles up into his lap and presses kiss to his lips. "I love you."

"I love you more."

Always competing, never wanting to agree, always negotiating—they were _perfect_.

**-xx-**

Dexter Smith-Jaglieski's ninth birthday party occupies Amerikick Park Slope. The kids are all hopped up on pizza, Coke and sugar. Not to mention the 20-minute karate lesson that the staff members had set up for the birthday boy and all his friends.

"SAY HELLO TO MY LITTLE FRIEND!" The laser-tag/Nerf war is _on_.

Dexter seems to have eagerly taken Christopher under his wing, the toddler following the older boy like a puppy, imitating his every move and kicking ass.

"Daaaaad!" Emma is barefoot and piggybacking Jake with a laser-tag gun in one hand and a Nerf-gun in the other. "Down, down!" Jake obeys and sets her down on her feet, watches her run off to join Dexter and Christopher.

"I feel way too old for this," Jake announces as he plops down on a chair next to Lucas, Haley and Rachel.

Rachel pats his back sympathetically, "At least yours are over the terrible-twos," she clinks his Avengers party-cup against his, "I remember when these would've been filled with liquor—the good ol' days."

"C'mon," Lucas grins, "It's not so bad."

Haley rolls her eyes at her best friend, "Yours doesn't even crawl yet."

"Hey, don't complain," starts Rachel, "I came here with one, but it looks like now I've got two kids to deal with." she tilts her head towards where Clay is running around the jungle gym and beaning kids with Nerf darts. "Speaking of, where's Brooke?"

Lucas points towards a corner table, "She usurped the make-up table and is now painting the kid's faces." he says, "She makes a killer Spider-Man." They all laugh at the comment, and it's nice being together like this.

Nate walks in, gift under one arm, "Hey," his other arm around the shoulders of a petite brunette, "what'd I miss?"

It's then that Nicki Smith stumbles in. She looks like she's been wearing the same clothes for a week (and smells like it, too). "Haaaaaaaaaaappyyyyyyyyyy biiiiiiiirthdaaaaaaaaay..." she slurs as she knocks over a few gifts off the table. Her eyes are glazed over and bloodshot, she smells like the floor of a brewery, and she is clearly on something.

Jake and Haley automatically stand up, as if bracing themselves to take control of the situation.

"_Shit_." Jake mutters.


	7. An Affair to Forget

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the newly fixed Mac in which I wrote this on…**

**AN: Glad to know ya'll hate the new review system as much as I do. Here's the next one, dudes.**

**Breakin' All The Rules**

An Affair to Forget

**-xx-**

_Yeah, you're the worst thing,_

_That ever happened t__o this party._

_So go on. Go home._

_Yeah, go on. Go home._

_But take—take me with you._

_I missed the last dance._

_Give me another chance,_

_For one more kiss._

_Catch me if you can._

_I can taste my mother's ruin,_

_As I pour her another gin._

_―Simon Wilcox_

_**-xx-**_

"_Haaaaaaaaaaappyyyyyyyyyy biiiiiiiirthdaaaaaaaaay..._"

Nicki Smith stumbles in to Amerikick Park Slope completely bombed off her head.

Jake frowns, "_Shit_." he mutters.

Rachel leans forward towards Lucas, "Well, this is not good." she whispers.

Lucas reflexively pulls Jax's stroller closer to him, "No duh."

Jake and Haley react quickly, though. It's almost a dance, the way they move together even when everyone else seems to be paralyzed. Jake approaches Nicki slowly, and Haley grabs Emma and Dexter, starts pulling them aside—they don't need to see this.

"HEY!" Nicki yells, her glazed eyes throwing daggers at Haley, "Hey! That is _my_ son!"

Jake groans, "Jesus, what're you on, Nicki?" It's obvious she's high off of something, and this is too aggressive to come from a couple of bong hits. "Look, Rae's a doctor. Just let her check you out—"

"—that is my boy! You are _NOT_ his mother! GET YOUR HANDS OFF HIM!" Nicki is screaming like a mad person, and Jake moves to block her path in case she decides to full-on ram Haley, "GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY SON!"

Haley doesn't budge an inch, simply moves Dexter and Emma to stand behind her as if her body would shield them from the argument somehow. "Calm down, Nicki." her voice is more tired than anything else.

"THAT IS _MY_ SON!" Nicki finally falls to her knees, shrieks and sobs falling from her lips.

"It's okay," Dexter says, walks around Haley and Jake, "Hey, Mom," he kneels down in front of his mother, sings, "And when she's walkin' she's lookin' so fi-i-i-ine. And when she's talkin' she'll say that she's mi-i-i-ine. She'll say I'm not so tough just because I'm in love with an Uptown Girl. She's been living in her white bread world as long as anyone with hot blood can. And now she's looking for a downtown man. That's what I am."

The lyrics spill out of the boy's lips softly and soothingly. They seem to do the trick. Nicki throws her arms around him and hugs him tightly. Dexter just hugs her back and runs his fingers through her hair as if she were the child. "She's my Uptown Girl. You know I'm in love with an Uptown Girl... My Uptown Girl." It's obvious this is not the first time he's had to do this.

The apologies come out in sobs, "Dex, mm-sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry, baby... I'm so sorry." And Nicki Smith is officially collapsing while holding her son.

"It's fine, Mom," Dexter says, pulls away to look her in the eye, "Can you please let Dad's friend help you now?"

Nicki nods and Rachel makes her way over to them, "That was good, honey. Can you go with Haley now?"

Dexter nods, but doesn't move yet, "Will she be alright?"

"I'll take care of her, sweetie." Rachel assures him with a smile. "Just go with Haley, okay," That's enough to get him to go. And then the redhead focuses on Nicki. "Hi. My name's Rachel and I'm a doctor." she informs her matter-of-factly, presses two fingers to her carotid to check her pulse, "Pulse is rapid, she has shallow breath," she grabs Nicki's arms—there are more track-marks on them than on a road map. "And her veins are shot. She needs to go to the hospital."

Everyone stares at the redhead for a second, still somewhat shocked that she is the one to take charge and make determinations with such certainty.

"Are you sure?" Jake asks after a beat.

Rachel stands up and walks towards her son—she's about ready to get the hell out of here. "Well, she's definitely on something. And since I'm guessing she's not the I'm-gonna-voluntarily-go-to-rehab-and-really-give- it-a-shot kind of girl, then yeah. Hospital. Now. Just to be safe." she says, "It'd help to know what she took."

"God," Jake grips Nicki's arms and pulls her to her feet, "What'd you take?" Nicki either doesn't hear him or doesn't want to answer. He shakes her, "C'mon, Nic, this is serious—what did you take?" And then Nicki's eyelids flutter closed and her body goes limp and Jake has to hold her up.

Jake tries to get her to react, "Nicki? Nic!" And when that doesn't work, "Rae, she's passed out!"

"Fuck," Rachel makes her over to them, hands Christopher to Brooke, "Lay her down... Pulse is thready, but it's there. Call an ambulance."

It all moves pretty quickly from there—

The ambulance comes, takes Nicki down to the Methodist Hospital.

At Dexter's request, Rachel and Jake go with Nicki to the hospital.

Haley volunteers to wrap up the party details, and Lucas volunteers to stay and help her.

Brooke and Clay take the kids back to the Imperial.

Nate dumps his skanky date and goes with them.

**-xx-**

Out on the balcony, Emma sits on the marble table next to her big brother. Dexter has an arm around her, and Emma rests her head on his shoulder. They're used to comforting each other in silence.

Thirty-five stories below them, New York City keeps moving at it's usual pace.

Brooke opens the glass sliding door, "Em," she says, "Can you give us a minute?" Emma nods, squeezes Dexter's hand before sliding off the table and heading inside.

"Hey, Dex," Brooke takes Emma's place next to Dexter, hands him a glass bottle of Coke from the minibar. "Funny how everything keeps happening, isn't it?"

Dexter takes soda, says nothing. He's quiet like that sometimes.

Brooke sighs, "That wasn't the first time you had to do that, was it?" she asks gently, "Talking your mom down?"

"She loves Billy Joel." Dexter stares straight ahead until the New York City skyline blurs, "_Lullaby_ or _Only the Good Die Young_ or _New York State of Mind—_they usually do the trick. But _Uptown Girl_ is her favorite. She used to sing them to me." he shrugs, "And now I sing them to her."

Brooke can recall some of Victoria's benders. None had been as bad as Nicki's. Bitch-toria mostly drowned her sorrows in expensive gin before passing out on the Louis XV settee. She wants to help Dexter somehow, but she doesn't know what to say. "You're a good kid, Dex." she says, "You're gonna be alright. And I'm here for whatever you need. You call me—anytime, anywhere—and I'm there. You know that, right?"

Dexter just nods. His stoic silence elicits a sad smile from the brunette. "Yeah." she wraps an arm around him, "I was raised to not talk about things, too. But if you ever need someone to listen or just sit with you and stare into the city, I can do that."

Dexter hugs her tightly, a few crocodile tears spilling down his cheeks. Brooke rubs circles on his back gently, presses a kiss to the top of his head. _He doesn't deserves this_, she thinks. _He's just a_ _kid_. _He deserves_ better.

After a couple of minutes, Brooke heads back inside. She watches as Nate tries to bond with Christopher.

"Hey, kid," Nate greets Christopher. He thinks about making an I-was-almost-your-daddy joke, but opts against it. It doesn't really feel appropriate. "Um...I'm Nate."

Christopher eyes the raven-haired Scott skeptically, says nothing.

Brooke rolls her eyes, "C-Robb," she says amused, "This doofus is your Uncle Nate. Say hi."

"Hi, Uncle Doofus," Chris exclaims with a lopsided grin.

Nate's mouth is slightly agape as he watches the kid in awe. _Shit_, he thinks, _this really _is_ Rae and Clay's kid_.

Brooke snorts, lifts Christopher off the bar stool. "I think Emma's watching Nicktoons in your room." she blows a raspberry on his cheek playfully, then sets him on the floor, "Go join her!" And Christopher races off towards the bedroom.

Clay props himself up on the kitchen island, "Jax is down," he says, "Chris okay?"

"Yeah," Brooke nods, smirks at Nate, "Uncle Doofus was fun to watch."

It's then that Nate's iPhone rings the opening chorus bars of Fort Minor's _Remember the Name__. _"Yo," he flashes the pair a glare as he answers.

"_Nate Scott_?"

Nate furrows his brow, "Speaking." he says, "Who's this?"

"_Your Starbucks damsel in distress, Charming_."

Nate grins, "Princess. I wasn't sure you'd ever call." he says, "I waited by the phone and everything. If I was that type of guy, that would've been a pretty serious blow to my ego."

"_I have a feeling you'd never admit to it if you where_." Spencer replies.

Nate smirks, "Pretty presumptuous of you to assume such things," he says coolly, "So, why the call, babe?"

"_You gave me your number_." Spencer deadpans.

"I remember." Nate chuckles.

Spencer rolls her eyes, "_I'm done with my finals and my obnoxious roommate Hanna demands that I go out to celebrate_."

"I like your friend. Smart girl." Nate smiles playfully, licks his lips, "Where do you wanna go?"

"_Are you asking me out_?"

Nate frowns, "Wasn't that the whole point of this call?"

"_Cocky much_?" Spencer says cheekily.

"Not cocky if it's true." Nate recovers quickly, his confidence never falters. "Tell you what, I'll surprise you. Tomorrow night. I'll pick you up at your place, nine o'clock?"

"_Done. See you then, Charming_."

Nate smiles, taps the Create New Contact button and quickly saves her to his address book.

Brooke and Clay now sit side by side on the kitchen island, the backs of their heels knocking against he cabinets below. They have matching smirks tugging at their lips.

It's Clay who cracks first. "Dude." he says seriously, "What was _that_?"

"What?" Nate plays it non-chalant.

Brooke raises a perfectly groomed chocolate eyebrow, "The flirty banter, the cutesy nicknames, the _actual_ putting of effort into getting a date..."

"He _likes_ her!" Clay exclaims somewhat mockingly, and Nate's ears turn slightly red, the way it usually happens when he's embarrassed.

Brooke claps her hands like an excited five-year-old, "Natie's got a crush! Natie's got a crush! Natie's got a crush!"

Nate rolls his eyes, scrunches his eyebrows together the way he does when he's annoyed. "Knock it off, asshats," he mutters half-heartedly.

And it's welcome distraction, really, to fall back into their old rhythms if only for a little while. Amidst other people's drama, their own issues are put on hold and they regain their playful banter.

Clay leans forward, snatches the iPhone from Nate's back pocket, "Ooh," he says, "Lets see if _Princess_ has a name, shall we?"

"Oy, give it back!" Nate leaps in an attempt to snatch it back, but Brooke presses her bare feet against his chest to hold him at bay.

Clay and Brooke lean away from him, peek at the recently made calls and find the last one quickly. "Spencer Hastings." they read aloud in a mischievous sounding chorus.

Nate shoves Brooke's legs off, jumps on them to regain his phone, "Fuck off," he mutters as he slides it back into his pocket, and he glares at them for a beat.

Then they burst out laughing—Clay hunches over and Brooke rests her head against his shoulder, the back of her hands pressed to her lips in an useless attempt to suppress the giggles, and Nate plops down on a barstool in front of them, rests his head agains the cool marble counter.

It takes them a few minutes to settle down. Then they just sit there, stare at each other.

"Sorry we made fun of you." Brooke's the first to pierce the silence.

Nate nods in acceptance, cuts his eyes to Clay, "Sorry I slept with Rae. You weren't together, but it wasn't cool."

Clay sighs, "Sorry I said you couldn't be a real father."

Brooke clears he throat, cuts her eyes to Clay, "You already know I'm sorry I didn't tell you. But I'll say it again: I am _so_ sorry I hurt you like that. I never meant to."

They lock eyes for a beat—Brooke with Clay; Clay with Nate; Nate with Brooke.

Nate sighs, extends out his fist, "Truce?" he suggests.

Brooke and Clay simultaneously bump their fists against his, "Truce." they agree.

The threesome is sitting on the plush couch when the Lucas and Haley arrive.

"Broody!" Brooke leaps to her feet and rushes into Lucas' arms. The blonde holds her tightly, kisses the side of her head softly.

Nate and Clay stand up, too. "Any word from Red and Jake?"

Haley shakes her head, "No." she says, "I tried calling, but I guess there's bad reception."

"No news is good news right?" Clay says in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Nate purses his lips, "Or it means everything's so fucked up they haven't had a chance to call..." Brooke elbows him and Clay slaps him upside the head.

"What is wrong with you?" Haley questions, her brow furrowed. She shakes her head dismissively, "How're the kids?"

"Em's fine. She's watching TV with Chris." replies Brooke, "But Dex is pretty shut off. He's been sitting in the balcony since we arrived. Are you...well, are you gonna take him home?"

Haley blinks, looks down at her hands for a half a second, "Yes I am." she says with resolve. He might not be her son, but he certainly _feels_ hers, and if his mother is out of commission she is willing to fill in the gap.

They disperse after that—

Haley takes Dexter and Emma home.

Clay takes Chris back to his suite.

Nate heads out for the night.

Brooke and Lucas stand in the now empty living room in silence. "Hey," Lucas grips the brunette's arm gently, "I wasn't like that, right?" he asks softly, "I...it wasn't that bad?"

Brooke moves closer to him, "No, you weren't." she stands on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to both his cheeks, and then his forehead, "Stay with me?"

Lucas leans forward, cradles her face in his hands and rests his forehead against hers, "Definitely." he presses a quick kiss to her lips, "I love you."

"I know."

**-xx-**

Morning finds Brooke and Lucas asleep in her large platform bed. Their bodies are tangled together—the curve of Lucas' body curved against Brooke's, their legs intertwined, Lucas' arm draped across her waist.

Brooke slowly steps out of his embrace, picks up his button-down off the floor and slides it on. She's surprised that Jax hasn't already woken them, and then a jolt of fear hits her when she doesn't see him in his crib. But then she hears him giggling outside the bedroom.

Jax is in Rachel's arms while she finishes feeding him a bottle, "Mornin'," she says, cuts her eyes to Brooke, "Sorry I baby-naped him. Chris was asleep by the time I got back so he stayed downstairs with Clay, and I...needed to mother someone, I guess."

Brooke smiles, "Mother away," she sits on a barstool across from the redhead, "Good morning, handsome," she kisses the top of Jax's head, "How'd everything work out yesterday?"

"They pumped her stomach just to be safe. She'll be alright." Rachel says offhand, "Jake's playing hardball now, though. He'd already filed for sole custody when she last disappeared, and Nicki's still refusing rehab. I don't think it'll end well."

Brooke arches her eyebrows, "Shit, really?" she asks, surprised, "I mean, it's probably the best option since Nicki's a walking mess, but...I don't know how Dexter will react to that. He stayed with Haley for the night. He was pretty riled up."

Rachel shrugs, "Dex is a good kid. And he knows his mother is a mess." she says, "Oh, by the way, Nate is passed out in my room. He stumbled in here in the middle of the night and just crashed. I slept on the couch."

Brooke giggles wickedly, "Natie has a crush," she says teasingly, then turns serious for a beat, "Have you two made up?"

"Heart-to-hearts are tough to have when he's drunk off his ass." Rachel replies matter-of-factly, "We'll make up soon enough. And speaking of making up, you and Luke seem good."

Brooke can't help the smile that tugs at her lips, "We are." she says, "It's nice being together again. And I missed him."

Rachel watches with amused eyes her best friend's radiant I-am-giddy smile and how she seems to be practically glowing.

"What?" Brooke says when she notices the redhead staring, "No clever quip, no witty insult? Are you feeling alright?"

Rachel just shrugs, "Maybe we've all grown up after all," she suggests with a sigh, "Look, I'm all packed up. I need to get to the airport by four."

"Want me to go with you?" Brooke feels the familiar pang on sadness—Rachel is like her sister, and she still hates it when the redhead leaves. Los Angeles is just too fucking far away.

Rachel shakes her head, "No, it's okay. We'll just take a cab." she says, "Oh, uh, Nora called about the guest-lecture today at Parsons. You have to be there at eleven and she wanted to remind you about the internship program."

"Oh, crap! That's today," Brooke's mind is already off going over the to-do list and planning out the speech she has to deliver, "I need to get ready, and I stop by the office, and—ooh! Jax needs a sitter, so I have to call Vanessa."

Brooke does this every year—she attends as guest-lecturer for a seminar at Parsons The New School for Design or the Fashion Institute of Technology or LIM College, and then picks out one lucky student to intern at Clothes-Over-Bro's for the summer.

Rachel places her hands on the brunette's shoulders, "Easy." she chuckles, "Look, I'll watch Jackie-boy for the day. You go get dressed and I'll call downstairs and get the stoic concierge to send a car for you."

"Thank you." Brooke smiles, and then disappears off into her bedroom and starts rummaging her walk-in closet. Dressing is a faster task than it used to be—a black pencil skirt, a silver top, and a pair of Manolos and she's good to go.

She grabs a piece of the Imperial's stationary and scribbles a quick note for Lucas.

_Off to work. Be back early._

_—B_

Before Brooke heads downstairs, an invitation arrives by courier. Brooke signs to receive the heavy cream-colored envelope. Rachel peeks over her shoulder to read its contents. Inside, there's an invitation in ridiculously expensive stationary and perfect calligraphy:

_Mr. and Mrs. Daniel Scott_

_request the honor of your_

_presence at the marriage of their_

_only daughter,_

**Ms. Peyton Elizabeth Scott**

_to_

**Mr. Matthew James Saracen**

_On the evening of:_

_Saturday, the second of July_

_two thousand sixteen_

_at two o'clock in the afternoon at_

___Northern Gardens_

_3925 Pivot Drive_

_Tree Hill, NC_

Rachel raises a skeptical eyebrow, "Holy shit, Little Scott's getting married?"

"Looks like," Brooke replies, glances towards her bedroom, "I wonder if Luke knows? He hasn't mentioned it."

Rachel snorts, "B., look at this invite," she says, "The colors, the wording, and a big North Carolina wedding? Even _I_ know that is not Little Scott's taste. I'm guessing this is all Daddy Warbucks' doing. But why would they invite you?"

The question practically answers itself: "Because I'm a Davis, I run my very own multi-million dollar company, I'm currently fucking their oldest son, and I'm the mother of their only grandchild."

Rachel shrugs a shoulder, "Well, there's that." she says matter-of-factly, "I can't wait to see what Moody and Broody have to say to this."

Brooke rolls her eyes, "_Great_ way to start the day," she says sarcastically, "I'll call you when I'm on my way back." And with that, she's gone.

**-xx-**

In Hartford, Haley busies herself with making breakfast—cinnamon banana French toast, which she knows are Dexter's favorites. He hadn't fallen asleep last night until he heard from his dad that Nicki was doing better.

Jake is due to pick Dexter up in a couple of hours, and Haley wanted to make sure he had a good breakfast to start the day off.

"French toast," Emma calls out as she sits on the breakfast nook, "My favorite. Dex's, too."

Haley flashes Emma a maternal smile, "Morning, sweets," she greets, "And I know it's both of yours favorites. That's why I'm making them."

Emma sighs, "Is Dex gonna be alright?"

"Yeah, sweetie." Haley answers, "Everything's going to be all right. Don't worry."

Emma rolls her eyes at the response, "I'm not stupid, Mom." she says, "You don't need to reassure me. Just tell it to me straight. What's gonna happen now?"

"Jeez, how old are you again?" Haley smiles sadly—of course her and Jake's daughter would be too smart for her own good. She shakes her head, "I don't know what's gonna happen, Em. All I know is that Nicki is at the hospital and she's doing fine. I think your father's going to take Dexter to see her today." she sighs, "I...I love Dexter, but I don't get a say in how your dad handles this. Not anymore, babe. But I trust him, and I know he will work it out, okay? You don't need to worry about that."

Emma says, "I just...I miss it when we were a family, that's all."

The words hit Haley like a ton of bricks, "Emma, we are _still_ a family." she assures her, "You father and I love you. Just because we aren't together it doesn't mean that we're any less of a family. And you know that."

Emma rolls her eyes once more, "Yeah, Mom." she says, "I know. But I miss it when we were all together. When Aunt B. and Uncle Luke were fighting all the time you told her that: at the end of the day you can focus on what's tearing you apart or what's holding you together. I think you and Daddy started focusing on the wrong things. And then you couldn't get it back again." She stood up and grabbed her plate off the counter, "I'll just...eat in my room."

Haley stands there slack-jawed at her daughter's words. It's a sad day when the six-year-old is the mature one with the sage advice.

"Jesus..." Haley mutters, shakes her head sadly, "How did we get here?"

_How indeed_.

**-xx-**

The penthouse at the Imperial is quieter now. Lucas took Jax for the day, leaving Rachel alone to finish her packing and babysitting Nate.

The redhead stands in front of the bed, arms crossed over her chest, eyes gazing disapprovingly at the raven-haired Scott. She picks up a bottle of Voss and pours the cold water over his head.

Nate jumps up, falling off the bed. "Mother_fuck_." he groans, sits up slowly. "The fuck was that for?"

"'Cause I'm leaving soon and I wanted to make sure you're alive." Rachel deadpans, she sighs, "I'll get you some Advil."

Nate glares, "Don't bother." he growls angrily.

"Seriously?" Rachel frowns, "What the hell is your problem, Nate? Of all the people I've shitted things up with lately, you're not even on the list."

"_That_'s my fuckin' problem!" The snarl rips through his throat before he can stop it, "I'm your best friend, Rae. Or at least I used to be—when B. and Clay were off doing their own thing, it was _always_ you and me. But then this huge thing happens, and you don't even bother to call me! And not just that, you push me out of your life!"

Rachel shakes her head slightly, pinches the bridge of her nose, "It wasn't your baby, Nate." she says calmly, "What would you have done?"

"Whatever you needed me to!" Nate yells, angry, finally venting it out, "I'm not some punk—I would've _stepped up_!"

Rachel grabs his face in her delicate hands, "I _know_." she assures him, "I know you would've, okay. I know you would've stood by me and Chris from the beginning. But I didn't want you to. It wasn't your responsibility and I was not going to weigh you down with it. And I am sorry I cut you off, but I don't do half-truths. Not with _you_. So I just...pushed you away. I didn't want to put you in the same position I put Brooke in. It was easier. And it was also wrong."

Nate sighs, leans forward, his forehead resting against hers, "I've missed ya." he admits sadly.

"I'm sorry, Nathan." Rachel says, "But I'm here now and...we can get it back, right?"

"I certainly do better with you than without you, Red."

Rachel chuckles, "I'm well aware." she says, "Now, I gotta go get Chris downstairs, and then we need to get to JFK. But I'll be back soon. I'll cash in some vacation days or something. Are you gonna stay here?"

"I think so." Nate says, "I, uh, I have the Q7 downstairs. Want a ride to the airport?"

Rachel presses a kiss to his cheek, "Yes. Thank you."

**-xx-**

Brooke leaves Parsons and finishes up at Clothes-Over-Bro's headquarters, then grabs a cab to 40 East and 83th Street and lets herself into Lucas' loft.

"Honey, I'm home!" she calls out jokingly, "Where my boys at?"

Lucas walks out, cradling Jax against his chest, huge grin across his lips. And Brooke smiles a huge dimpled smile because this as close to the textbook definition of a perfect moment as she's ever gotten.

"Hey, Pretty Girl," Lucas greets, bounces Jax bit. The baby focuses his big blue eyes on his mother, giggles at the sight. "How was your day?"

Brooke lets out a small laugh, "It was good. I met a lot of really talented students, which means I've got my work cut out for me to pick one for the internship position." she says, "How 'bout you two? Anything to report?"

"Nothin' much, just spent the day lounging around. I wrote a few chapters while J. here took a nap, but that's about it."

Brooke nods, then the lightbulb goes off in her mind, "Ooh!" she exclaims, "I do have news." she searches inside her Coach purse and pulls out the extravagant wedding invitation. "Your little sister's getting married. You been keeping it quiet or just haven't found out yet?"

Lucas walks towards her and they switch—Brooke takes Jax and Lucas takes the invite. His navy-blue eyes glance over it quickly and he frowns, "What the hell?" he asks, "I mean, I know Pewee has been shacking up with Saracen in Chicago for a couple of years now, but I didn't know they were getting _married_."

Brooke shrugs a shoulder, "I think it's good. Two people coming together, pledging their love in front of family and friends. It's sweet. Though Rachel guesses that your father's behind this whole thing. Nothing looks better for a family photo-op than a big wedding." she rambles quickly, pauses and blinks, "We're going together, right?"

Lucas smirks, rolls his eyes at her, "_Yes_." he pecks her lips, "You're my woman. Who else would I wanna take?"

"Just checking." Brooke grins like a little girl.

"You're really excited about this, aren't you?" Lucas asks.

Brooke smiles, "You know I love weddings."

"Is that, like, a hint that you want to get married?" Lucas' eyes subconsciously glance towards the table that currently hides the engagement ring he'd purchased long ago.

Brooke arches her eyebrows, "You offering to make an honest woman out me?" she asks, "'Cause I kinda like this whole living-in-sin thing we've got going here."

Lucas lets out a forced laugh, "Of course not." he says. He pauses for a beat then groans, "Ugh, I need to call my Mother about the wedding. I'm sure Nate and I will have some role in the ceremony or something."

"I _like_ Karen." Brooke says, "Dan's a douche. But I really like Karen."

Lucas averts the brunette's eyes, "Yeah, she just doesn't like _me_ that much lately." he mutters to himself, clears his throat, "We haven't talked in a while." he says.

"Fallout from the book?" Brooke says, and it's not really a question.

Lucas furrows his brow, "How is it that you always do that?"

"Do what?" Brooke asks while she scavenges the fridge for a Vitamin Water. "Know you? It's the aftermath of having dated you for so long." she says easily, "You should be happy. You have a gorgeous brunette who really knows you and still wants you. There _are_ worst things in the world, or so I've been told."

Lucas laughs, "Of course there are," he stands behind her, wraps his arms around her waist, "And I love that you know me so well, babe." he presses a kiss to the nape of her neck. "You. Are. Amazing." He punctuates between kissing her shoulder, her neck and nibbling her ear.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Broody," Brooke says, bites her lip.

Lucas grins, "Good." he says, "'Cause it's just about time to put Jax down, and I have the rest of the day free."

"Oh, _really_," Brooke starts, but she's cut off by her buzzing cell phone.

**From: Haley J.**

_Nicki's disappeared. She left the hospital and no one knows where she is._

"Crap." Brooke frowns, shows the text to Lucas, "The hits just keep on coming, don't they?"

"Yeah," Lucas clears his throat, "this is definitely starting to feel like a when-it-rains-it-pours situation."

Brooke sighs, "What happens now?"

Lucas throws an arm around her shoulders, kisses the side of her head, "Babe, I've no idea." he answers honestly.

And a sense of relief washes over them then, just for a second. Because they have their shit together now, and there is _definitely_ something to be said for stability.

**-xx-**

Nate pulls his bike over on West 96th Street and texts Spencer.

_Your Prince Charming has arrived._

Spencer comes downstairs quickly. She's wearing a halter top and tight Seven Jeans paired with those black Loeffler Randall knee-high boots, and red American Apparel socks peaking out from under them.

"You own a motorcycle. How cliché." Spencer taunts, "At least it's a Harley and not some cheap death trap."

Nate raises an eyebrow, impressed that she actually knows that, "Yeah, it's a Super Glide Sport." he says as he hands her a helmet, "How'd _you_ know that?"

"I know a lot of things." Spencer replies as she straps on the helmet, silently thankful that she dressed appropriately for the occasion.

Nate smirks, "I am sure you do." he says, "Hop on."

Spencer jumps behind him on the bike, places her palms against his broad shoulders. "Ya might wanna hold on, babe." Nate suggests, but she brushes it off.

As soon as Nate releases the clutch and the bike jolts forward, Spencer's arms encircle his waist and hold on tightly. Nate says nothing, he only smirks in satisfaction.

They jump on FDR Drive, heading to the Lower East Side. Nate pulls in at something called the Doghouse Saloon. Inside it's pretty much a frat-boy's wet dream—banners for Corona and Heineken hang around the bar, plus the giant Wheel of Shots with everything from Fireballs to Buttery Nipples. Flat-screen TVs surround the bar with the lastest ESPN highlights. There are pool and Skee-Ball tables, and of course the traditional Greek game of Beer Pong.

Spencer eyes the place, raises a very skeptical eyebrow, "This is where you're taking me? Seriously?" She takes a final glance at the place. _Jeez,_ she thinks, _after a few minutes in here I'll just roofie myself_.

"There's all-you-can-eat hot-dogs," Nate tells her with a grin, sighs, "Look, you told me you went to Princeton and that you graduated a year early. There's not much of a frat life there, or sorority life for that matter. And law school doesn't leave much time to party. I thought you could have some fun—something new, something different, something that's just a little bad for you."

The smirk is enticing and his tone is inviting, and suddenly the place doesn't look that bad. "Look, Sunday is "Flirt Night," which means oversize drinks and two-for-one shots. How 'bout a margarita to start you off and then you can take the Wheel of Shots for a spin," he tempts.

Spencer ponders it for second, then she smiles, "Do I still get a hot-dog?" she asks, "'Cause I'm actually starving."

"As you wish, Princess." Nate offers her his arm and leads the way towards the bar.

It doesn't take too much for Spencer to get wasted—a margarita here, a mojito there, a few lost games of Beer Pong later and before she knows it, she's up on stage belting out Def Leppard's _Pour Some Sugar On Me _with the 80's cover band.

Nate stands in the crowd, pulls out a Zippo and waves in the air for her. He thinks she's kind of beautiful when she lets loose and acts so carefree.

When Spencer finishes her song and stammers off the stage and into Nate's arms. She giggles, "You know, you have unbelievable blue eyes." She says staring right into them.

"Thank you." Nate chuckles, tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You ready to call it a night?"

Spencer replies by clumsily pressing her lips against his—it's a sloppy kiss, but he doesn't mind it at all. His fingers get lost in her dark-brown tresses as they continue to explore each other's mouths.

Nate pulls back, rests his forehead against hers, "Oh, I am gonna kick myself for this tomorrow," he says more to himself that to her, "I think we need to get you back home. I'm gonna call your roommate, whatshername? _Hanna_—and tell her I'm gonna carry upstairs, okay?"

It's the gentlemanly thing to do, after all, and he's always liked his women clearheaded when it comes to sex anyways so it's all for the best.


	8. The Only Love I Know

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the newly fixed Mac in which I wrote this on…**

**AN: To anyone wondering, I've got a serious case of writer's block with BoV, but I am slowly working through it. I, however, do not have writer's block with this story, I was just without my laptop for a few days. Also, shout out to everyone who's reviewed so far. Hope ya'll like this next chapter. I have a lot of mixed feelings about it. So please let me know whatcha think, dudes. **

**Breakin' All The Rules**

The Only Love I Know

**-xx-**

_And I know that you think_

_That we can still be just friends._

_But if I can be honest for a moment:_

_I know that we're breaking, _

_But if you can just take it—_

_We're so, so close._

_We're staring at it._

___We're staring at it._

___We're staring at it._

___Please don't go._

___We'll get it back,_

___And just let it pass._

___We can make it happen._

___I don't know where you're at, _

___But when you see an exit_

___You'll be headed at it._

___I won't go. I'____m staring at it._

___I'm staring at the only love I know._

___—SafetySuit_

**-xx-**

Lucas paces around his loft, his BlackBerry in his hand, his thumb on the call button. "Just man up. Just do it." he cuts his eyes to the carrier where Jax is currently sitting. "I should just call, right?" He nods to himself. "I'm gonna call. Just fuck it..." he mutters to himself, decides to bite the bullet and call his mother.

"_Karen Scott_."

"Hey, Mom," Lucas says timidly, "It's me. Luke."

"_Hello, Lucas_." Karen greets casually, "_To what do I owe this call?_"

Lucas rubs the back of his neck anxiously, "Uh, Pey's getting married," he answers, "I mean, I know it's more than a month until the wedding, but...well, is there like a party or a dinner or something? I tried calling Dad, but—"

"_Your father is down in Washington_." Karen cuts him off, "_Your sister is still in Chicago, but she'll be flying in to New York in two days. As will your father and I. We're both being honored at an international business conference in the city. It's a black-tie event, so you'll need a tux to attend. It's being hosted at the Palace hotel_." She pauses, "_Is it safe to assume that the tabloids are correct and that Nathaniel is also in New York_?"

"Yeah, Nate's here. He's staying at the Imperial, I think."

"_I'll give him a call and coordinate with him. We'll all have dinner together before we leave the city. I've made reservations at Le Bernardin. Is seven o'clock good for you_?"

Lucas rubs his eyes, "It's fine, Mom—"

"_Wonderful. We'll be seeing you in a couple of days, then_—"

"About that, Mom," Lucas says, happy to get a word in edgewise, "I'm down for your...business thing, but I need a plus one. I'm back together with Brooke. And we'll need to find a sitter for Jackson that night." he adds, more to himself than to her.

"_Ah, and how is my grandson? I take it this means Brooklyn is letting you see the boy now_." It's not really a question.

Lucas furrows his brow, he wants to ask her how did she know that Brooke hadn't been letting him see Jax, but opts against it. "Yes. We're officially back together now." he says instead, "And Jackson's...perfect, really."

"_Parental pride. I recognize it well_." Karen says, a tinge of sarcasm or something akin to it in her tone, "_I used to have it with my own children_."

Lucas sighs, "Mom, I'm _sorry_ about the book. You know I—"

"_Let's not, Lucas. Not now. You father and I will see you in two days_."

"Right. Bye." Lucas says to the end-tone of the phone. He cuts his eyes to Jax once more, "That went real well, didn't it?" Jax just blinks and even at three-months old he can still manage a pretty good disappointed expression. "Yeah. I thought so, too." Lucas groans, softly slamming his forehead against the marble counter in a gesture of defeat.

Nate walks into the loft about half an hour later and spots Lucas sitting in front of his MacBook with a tired expression. "I take it you heard about the conference," Lucas only nods tiredly. "Dad?"

"Mom." Lucas replies, "I called her about the wedding, and she told me we'd be having a family reunion in the city soon enough so we could discuss everything then. Dinner's at Le Bernardin, reservations for seven o'clock."

Nate smirks, "Have you talked to Peewee?" he asks, "'Cause Dad's completely taken over the wedding, and she's _pissed_."

"Nah, I haven't called her in a while." Lucas says, then chuckles, "Matt's gotta be so freaked about coming to the city for this."

"Matt's coming?" Nate asks, then groans, "Ugh, you mean we have to bring dates to this?"

Lucas smirks, "What're you complaining about? Last I heard you didn't have a problem getting a date."

Nate sighs, "No, I guess I don't." he says, "Shit. I need a tux for this, too."

"Not a problem." Lucas says, BlackBerry in hand as he types a quick message. "Done. Just be in Hartford by one today. Haley will pick you up."

Nate frowns, "For what?"

"I got a tailor there." Lucas replies, "Trust me, this guy will hook you up. Haley will go with you."

**-xx-**

Haley picks up Nate at the train station and they drive down to Main Street. Nate gets off in front of the Paulie's Fine-Clothes store, and Haley instructs him to go inside while she finds a good parking spot.

Paulie is an old man with white hair, a tape measure hanging around his neck. "Mr. Scott, I take it?" He talks with some indistinguishable accent that Nate can't quite pinpoint.

Paulie also doesn't wait for an answer, starts going through racks of suits, muttering to himself as he goes along. "Here we go," he says, pulling out a black tux with a white shirt and thrusting it into the raven-haired Scott's arms, "Simon Spurr—slim collar, slim lapels, and you need tie!"

Nate grabs the tux and follows the tailor as he searches through another rack, finally pulling out a black skinny-tie with two diagonal silver stripes in the middle. "Forzieri, slim tie." the old man mumbles at he artfully ties the garment around Nate's neck. "Good fit."

Nate loosens up the knot a bit, "Wow, uh," he chuckles, "Dude, how do you even know these will fit?"

"Simon Spurr. 38-regular." Paulie answers, spins Nate around, "Try on." he orders as he pushes the basketball player into a dressing room.

The little bell atop the door rings as Haley walks in and Nate breathes out in relief—Paulie is officially creeping him out.

"Ms. Jaglieski," Paulie greets with a kind smile, presses a kiss to her knuckles, "What can I do for you? Mr. Jaglieski need suit—Tom Ford, 34-long, thistle ends Charvet tie." The tailor recites the measurements from memory.

Haley had met Paulie back when she and Jake were still together, and Jake was in desperate need of suits and a tuxedo for work and other formal events. Paulie still calls her Ms. Jaglieski and greets her like a gentleman every time she drops in.

The copper-haired mother smiles sweetly, "Hello, Paulie," she greets, "I'm actually here with Nate. He about done yet?"

Paulie shakes his head. "Very difficult boy, Ms. Jaglieski."

Haley rolls her eyes, "For crying out loud," she exclaims, shoving Nate back into the dressing room, "Just try on the suit, Nate!"

A few minutes later, Nate comes out all decked out in a Simon Spurr tux. "Holy fuck, it fits!" he says, amazed, "I'm not even a 38-regular, and it _fits_! How'd you do that?"

Haley smiles, her hands straightening his tie, then moving to brush his shoulders, and finally settling upon his lapels, "You look great," she tells him, turns to Paulie, "We'll take it. Just put it on my account, will you?"

Nate rolls his eyes, "I can pay for it." he says, pulling out his AmEx.

"Yeah, that's not how Paulie rolls," Haley answers vaguely, "You can pay me back later, if you want. Paulie, can you please have it delivered to the Imperial penthouse by today. Thank you."

Nate changes back into his jeans and t-shirt, and the pair exit the shop quickly after that, "Okay, old-man Paulie was weird as fuck!" he announces, "What the hell was that?"

Haley chuckles, "Paulie's like Ollivander from Harry Potter—he never forgets a suit. Trust me, he can pick out your size, color and brand in a second."

"Right..." Nate lets his voice trail off for a second, "He may be the wizard tailor or whatever, but Old Man River is still creepy as all fuck—and you can't deny _that_."

Haley rolls her eyes at him, but still laughs, "He _is_ a little eccentric, I'll give you that," she says, "What do you need a tux for, anyways?"

"Mom and Dad are coming into the city for some conference thing. Attendance _and_ black-tie are mandatory." Nate explains, "And I might need a date for this. I don't know. It's weird. I've never brought a girl to family stuff."

Sarcasm drips from Haley's tone, "Gee, why am I not surprised?"

Nate shrugs, "'Cause I'm genetically incapable of forming long-term relationships with women." he offers.

"You need to stop saying that like it's something to be _proud of_," Haley says with her patented mom-tone, "You don't let your emotions get anywhere near you, and that's not normal. Sex is not an appropriate coping mechanism."

Nate smirks, "Sex is _fun_, Hales." he says, "Sex is _good_. And when it's with me, it's _really_ good."

"When it's with the right person, sex is amazing. I know. But...I just always thought you used sex to fill up that hole inside of you." Haley says calmly, "It's not healthy. I don't know, I guess I worry about you sometimes, Nate."

The conversation has taken a more serious tone than either of them had intended, and Nate looks away for a second. "So what if I am?" he asks defensively, "Sex is easy, it's what I'm good at. And it makes it all go away. It's what I know." He thinks maybe he doesn't know how to be _in_ love with someone, but that's never been an issue before.

Haley reaches for his hand, "You can always_ know_ something else, Nate." she says warmly, "I think you're better than just empty sex."

"But I don't wanna be." Nate pulls away, "I like to keep things simple: Grub. Chat. Party. Shower. Cab." he lists off quickly.

Haley rolls her eyes at his response, "I am well aware of how you operate," she says, "I'm just saying you're capable of _more_. And I think deep down you want to be."

For some reason the comment makes Nate smile, "And I think _you_ should try to unclench and have a good time every once in a while," he advices lightly, "A little fun won't kill ya."

"I do not clench!" Haley whines, then she sighs, hands on her hips, and asks, "Do I clench?"

Nate smirks, "Yeah. Everything doesn't have to be serious all the time, either. Like I said, it's okay to just have _fun_."

"Yeah, I guess it is..." Haley lets her voice trail off, "So, are you really gonna bring a date to Dan's party?"

Nate's iPhone buzzes then with new text from Spencer.

_Sorry 4 getting so wasted on our date.  
Do over?_

Nate stares at the text for a few seconds, then starts to type up a response inviting her to the conference for his parents. He ends up deleting it.

_Sure. UR turn 2 surprise me_.  
_How bout Saturday?_

"Y'know, I actually think I'll go stag." Nate says, stashing his phone back into his jeans' pocket. Maybe he _does_ want something a little more serious, but sure as shit not serious enough to drag her into his family zoo. "But thanks for all the help, Hales," he leans down, pecks her cheek, "Really."

Haley smiles, "Anytime, Scott," she replies with a wink, punching his arm lightly.

"Hey, how's Jay doing with the whole Nicki situation?"

Haley sighs, "Well, he's got a P.I. trailing after Nicki, and all that's left is dotting the i's and crossing the t's on him getting full custody of Dexter since Nicki failed to appear at the hearing." she shakes her head, "I don't know, it's all a mess. Dex is worried and Emma, she just...she wants her family back. It's hard."

"It'll all work out, Hales," Nate wraps an arm around her shoulders, gives her a squeeze.

"Yeah? How do you know?"

Nate smiles, "I just...I like to hope for the best, that's all."

"Here's hoping, then."

**-xx-**

Rachel sits in her mother's office at Seaside Health & Wellness. She's been back in L.A. for a few days now, and she's happy to be getting back into her old rhythm.

This is easy.

This she knows.

This she can do.

There's a copy of the latest issue of the _Spectator _sprawled open in the desk in front of her.

The first official interview Clayton Evans had given since his father's funeral.

There, among all the talk about the future of Evans Enterprises and Fortitude, it's announced to the world that Clay Evans is more than a CEO, sport's agent and business tycoon—he's also a father.

Among the massive photo spread, there's a cute picture of Clay and Chris sitting at his large Parmian desk. Rachel runs her fingers over the photograph, a smile gracing her lips.

It's Amelia who busts the redhead out of her thoughts, "Interesting reading, isn't it?" she asks teasingly, "You know, I've always liked him." she adds matter-of-factly.

"If you have a point, make it quickly, Aunt Amy." Rachel answers, pretending to be as equally amused at her aunt.

Amelia shrugs, "Just saying," she says, "He is handsome, isn't he?" She places a white box on the desk in front of Rachel, "And I may have overhead Charlotte say that All Saints Hospital down in New York is looking for a few new residents. I'm familiar with Dr. O'Hara down there."

"I already have a residency. Here. In L.A." Rachel replies quickly. A little too quickly for Amelia's taste. "I have a life _here_."

Amelia smirks, "You have a_ job_ here." she corrects, "I'm just saying, if for some reason you needed to relocate, it's not impossible. In fact, it's very doable." And with that, Amelia exits the office quickly.

Rachel sighs, opens the gift-box. Inside, there's a framed copy of the picture of Chris and Clay from the_ Spectator. _She knows better than to question Amelia's ways by now, but she is definitely surprised by the present.

She she shakes her head—she cannot upheave her entire life to move to New York City in a last ditch attempt to...to _what_? Get Clay back? She'd _had_ Clay, and she'd dumped him. They didn't work well together, at least not outside of Duke.

Both were willful and ambitious, and neither had been willing to give up on their dreams long enough to hold onto each other.

_Nothing has changed_, Rachel reminds herself. _We've both played our hands. What's different this time around_?

The answer hits her automatically: You have a son now. It's not about looking out for number one. At least not anymore.

Rachel glances at the picture once more. Clay looks handsome in his casual John Varvatos suit and Chris looks giddy in his jeans and a Justice League t-shirt.

And for a millisecond, Rachel lets herself wonder if they could make this work somehow.

**-xx-**

The award ceremony is being held in the grand ballroom at the Palace hotel. The room is filled with the elite Upper East Sidders and members of the press.

The Scott family has a large and imposing table in the middle of the room.

Dan and Karen Scott sit at the head of the table, the picture of a perfect couple in their tailored Gucci outfits. This was their image, and it never faltered.

Nate sits stag to their left all swagged out in his brand-new Simon Spurr tuxedo. He was incorrigible playboy, another image that was—at this point—adored by the press.

To their right, sits Lucas who is all decked out in his Paul Smith tux. Brooke's red Valentino is equally tasteful and eye-catching. The couple's hands remain intertwined under the table, away from the public's eye.

Matt and Peyton round up the table. Saracen looks ridiculously uncomfortable in his three-piece Calvin Klein tux, and Peyton's best attempts to reassure him seem to be falling short.

Introductions aren't really necessary—all three Scott children are prominent in their own right, and Davis is a household name in New York City since they own half of it.

They pose for a few family pictures, and then the table splits a bottle of Perrier-Jouet.

After that come the speeches. They call Dan a "brilliant political mind", "a real family man—loving husband and dutiful father." Karen's up after that. She receives accolades for being "an amazing businesswoman", "a dedicated mother", "a true visionary and dream weaver."

As if on cue, Lucas, Nate and Peyton down their champagne glasses in a single swig.

Brooke pats Matt's shoulder empathically, as if saying _welcome to the our world, kid_.

Dan and Karen deliver swift, polished speeches. Both of them pushing their own personal agendas, and thanking their supportive family—never forget to sell the family aspect.

They receive standing ovations, of course.

After that, the ballroom-type reception begins. There's a cover band playing oldies, and they all start making their rounds.

Nate signals a waiter over. "Absolut neat." he asks, "Make it a double, and keep 'em coming." The waiter nods and goes off to fetch the drink.

"It's like I never went away." Peyton mutters as she takes another sip of champagne, she shakes her head and cuts her eyes towards Matt, "How're you doing, honey?"

After college, Peyton had moved down to Chicago with Matt. She'd started out her own record label—Red Bedroom Records—and he started work at an art gallery. And after living together for three years, Matt had finally proposed and Peyton had said yes.

Matt gulps, "I-I'm fine." he replies shakily.

At the time, he'd had no idea what he was signing up for.

"Take it easy, Saracen," Nate smirks, punches his shoulder playfully, "It's all a big show. All ya gotta do is smile pretty."

Peyton squeezes his hand to reassure him, "You're doing great, honey." she pecks his cheek lovingly, "It'll be over soon."

"Oh, this is gonna be a long night," Brooke says through a tight smile.

The band breaks out into a cover of the Drifters' _Save The Last Dance For Me_, and Lucas leans closer Brooke, "Hey, babe," his warm breath tickles her ear sending shivers down her spine, "May I have this dance?" he asks, extending his hand out to her.

Brooke takes his hand, "You certainly may." she replies like a proper lady, and they rise to their feet.

Lucas spins her around the dance floor, but really it's Brooke who leads Lucas—the brunette's been taking ballroom dancing lessons (from the waltz to the tango) since she was five.

"When was the last time we danced like this?" Lucas asks, grinning like a little boy.

Brooke giggles, pouts her lips in thought, "Ooh, I'm gonna say...Jake and Haley's wedding?"

"It's been way too long, then," Lucas licks his lips, smiles, "You are still ridiculously good at this."

Brooke smirks, raises a perfectly groomed chocolate eyebrow, "Trust me, if I could free up the brain-space that stores the foxtrot, I would."

"You shouldn't," Lucas spins her and she lands gracefully against his strong chest, "I find it sexy." he whispers before dipping her back, her leg reflexively wrapping around his waist to steady herself.

By the time the song's final chords ring out, everyone is clapping and all eyes are on the beautiful couple. Brooke and Lucas smile humbly and join in on the applause. _That _would be all over page five tomorrow.

After the dance, Dan pulls Lucas aside. "What are you doing with the Davis girl?" he asks plainly.

"And here I thought you approved." Lucas scoffs, "What has she done to lose favor with the Senator?"

Dan rolls his eyes, "Cut the bullshit, will you, son? That girl has a bastard son, and she is trying to pin it on you."

Lucas' fists ball up automatically, his knuckles whitening, "You ever talk about my son like that again, and I will lay your ass up, Dad. I don't care where were we are, I will deck you and land you flat on your ass. The papers will eat it up—the fall of the mighty Dan Scott."

"You are not married, you weren't even together," Dan continues undeterred, "You have to admit the kid doesn't look much like you. And Ms. Davis _does_ have a reputation."

"You are walking on really thin ice right now, Dad." Lucas warns.

Dan scoffs mockingly, "Wake up, will you? You don't scare me, boy. You think I didn't know about your mother's affair with Keith until your sad excuse for a book got published? I'm a Senator, I'm positioned for a run at Governor this next term—I know _everything_. And Keith's been pathetically after your mother since high school. Your book didn't uncover any deeply hidden family secrets, it just made them _public_." he says disdainfully, "In fact, I'm willing to bet one of your mother's P.I.'s told her about me and Deb years ago. Make no mistake, Lucas. We both know exactly who we're married to."

And the simple fact that his father is so calm, so matter-of-fact about this, is enough to disarm Lucas. "Why the facade of a happy family, then?" he asks, equal parts angry and confused, "Why make us play pretend and continue to put us through this fuckin' hell, Dad? If you've always known, why bother with the show?"

"Politics is perception, son. I run a family campaign, I _am_ a family man. And you, Lucas, are my dutiful son." Dan pats Lucas' shoulders condescendingly, "You were _groomed_ for this, as were your brother and sister. We all have our roles to play, and we play them well." he says, and then as an afterthought he adds: "And I _do_ love your mother."

Lucas shakes his head, "That's not love."

"And that might not be your son," Dan retorts calmly, "And if he isn't, then that baby and Ms. Davis are liabilities we cannot afford. Get a DNA test and get this mess under control."

Lucas' navy-blue eyes appear to be raging, "I do not need a DNA test." he snarls venomously.

"I wouldn't be so sure." Dan cocks his head to the side where Brooke is happily talking to black-haired man in an all-black Armani tux. "Ms. Davis is a very popular woman, and if I read your book correctly, straying has been an issue with her before. Handle your business," Dan hisses, "Get your house in order."

Lucas glares, "Stay out of my business, Dad."

"Your business_ is_ my business." Dan says, cocks his head to the side, "And while the Davis girl was an asset before, now she can quickly become a liability. If you cannot reign her in, you'll need to cut her out." And with that, Dan walks away to greet another associate.

_Reign her in_. Pshh. Brooke Davis isn't the type of woman you can reign in.

Lucas cuts his eyes to where Dan had gestured before and spots Brooke. She's talking to some dark-haired guy in an all black Armani tux. As the guy warmly runs his hand over the brunette's arm, a familiar feeling starts to bubble in the pit of Lucas' stomach. He recognizes it instantly—it's jealousy.

He arrives at the brunette's side just as the guy is walking away. "Who was that?" he asks, an obvious edge in his voice.

"Just a friend," Brooke smiles, "I didn't know he'd be here tonight."

Lucas nods, "Look, we never talked about what you said," he says, "That Jax wasn't mine."

A pang of guilt hits the brunette at recalling the memory, "Yeah. God, I'm so sorry about that, Luke." Brooke says, "I was upset, and I just wanted to, I don't know, hurt you or piss you off. It was stupid and immature and...I'm sorry."

"So he is mine then?"

Brooke furrows her brow, "Yes. Of course he is."

"Because now I'm thinkin' a DNA might not be such bad idea."

"Are you serious?"

Lucas' eyes narrow, "You said it yourself, we weren't even _together_ when you got pregnant—"

"—so if Jax isn't yours, you'll what? Leave me?"

"No!" Lucas exclaims, "That's not what I'm saying—"

"—then what _are_ you saying?"

Lucas opens and closes his mouth a few times. "I'm saying that we were not together, and you've never lacked boyfriends—like that douche you were talking to just now!"

"Oh my God!" Brooke's glare a mixture of annoyance and disbelief. "T.J. is_ gay_, you idiot!" she hisses under her breath.

Lucas rolls his eyes, "I don't care if—" he stutters suddenly, catching himself. "Wait, he's _gay_?" he asks, clearly surprised.

"_Yes_." Brooke adds in a growl, "The only thing he ever checks out on me is my outfit."

Lucas' hands reach for the brunette's waist, but she moves away. "Please," she snarls with distaste, "The only reason I'm not kicking your ass right now is because this place is flooded with press. And I really don't need that kind of heat on me right now."

A photographer from the Times passes by, "Mr. Scott, Ms. Davis," he says, "a picture?"

"Certainly." Their bodies respond automatically by now: Brooke steps closer, Lucas places a hand on the small of her back, Brooke smiles flirtatiously at the camera, and Lucas flashes that trademark Scott-smirk.

It's all over in a click and a flash.

Then Brooke shoves him away once more. "I'm leaving now." And with that she walks out of the ballroom.

Lucas follows her into the coat-check room, "Hey, c'mon." he grips Brooke's arm, spins her around to face him, "I'm sorry I fell for my dad's usual mind-fuck. He just...he still gets inside my head." he sighs, "Look, I've waited a long this. For _us_. I'm sorry."

"You're a grown man, Lucas." Brooke sneers, "Stop using your daddy as an excuse."

"You're right. I'm sorry. It's... I love you, and I love our son." Lucas sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose feeling that he's not explaining himself as well as he should, "What I'm trying to say is that, even if he weren't mine, I'd love him the same. It wouldn't matter. The thought of losing you, losing Jax...it breaks my heart."

Brooke steps forward, cradles his face in her hands before crashing her lips against his in a passionate kiss. Lucas responds in kind, his mouth eagerly exploring hers.

Her dainty hands push the tux jacket off his shoulders and then move to yank off his tie.

Lucas can't get enough of her skin, his hands roaming her back, his lips traveling from her neck to her shoulder. Brooke wastes no time in getting him out of his shirt, ripping off a couple of buttons in the process.

His hands grip her waist tightly, then move to roam her back, quickly finding the zipper to her dress and sliding it down. She in turn slides down the zipper of his pants.

Lucas strong arms lift Brooke up, her toned legs wrapping around his waist, and he pushes her against the back wall of the coat-check room. His mouth tries to savor every inch of her bare skin and his hands rip off her La Perla underwear so he can ease himself inside of her.

"Aaah!" Loud moans escape from the brunette's ruby red lips, and Lucas cover her mouth with his in a heated kiss.

Brooke's nails claw at his back and Lucas' fingertips dig into her thighs, and they both know the familiar bruises that result from this.

"I love you." Lucas whispers huskily in her ear before nibbling on her earlobe and sending her nerve endings into overdrive.

"Oh!" the brunette moans, "I love you, too."

Brooke's body goes limp against his heaving chest, her arms still hanging around Lucas' neck and her legs still wrapped around his waist.

Lucas' fists hold up his weight against the wall, his forehead resting on Brooke's shoulder. They're both breathing heavily, lazy satisfied smiles across their lips.

"Ready to bail out of this shit party?" Lucas asks.

Brooke nods, pecks his lips. "Let's go home."


	9. Family Affair

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the newly fixed Mac in which I wrote this on…**

**Breakin' All The Rules**

Family/Affair

**-xx-**

_Could this be out of line?_

___(Could this be out of line?)_

_To say you're the only one_

_Breaking me down like this._

_You're the only one  
_

_I would take a shot on._

_Keep me hanging on_

_So contagiously._

_Oh, you're everything __I'm wanting._

_Come to think of it, __I'm aching._

_On account of my transgression,  
_

_Will you welcome this confession?_

_—Acceptance_

**-xx-**

The award ceremony had concluded long ago and the ballroom reception is just about burned out and it's not even halfway through yet. Nate is pissed that Brooke and Lucas have jumped ship early, and he wants to bail, too. He's quickly grown tired of playing the charming rebellious son and posing for obligatory pictures.

Karen watches her youngest son walk across the room, drink in hand. He talks to all the right people, shakes hands with all of their associates, and grins for the cameras whenever he has to. Her maternal instinct kicks in, however, and she can tell he's already grown bored of the festivities.

"Having a good time?" Karen asks, sitting next to him at the table.

Nate flashes her a smile, pecks her cheek, "Hey, Mom," They hadn't even had a chance to greet each other properly since Dan and Karen came to the party straight from the airport. "The ceremony was wonderful."

Karen chuckles good naturedly, "You've always been a lousy liar, Nathaniel."

Nate smirks—to this day, Karen is the only one who ever uses his full name. "Well, you know I've always hated these things, Mom."

"Yes. I'm aware." Karen smiles, takes a sip from her champagne, "Your sister also fails at hiding her distaste from me." They both steal a glance across the room where Peyton and Matt getting chatted up by one of Dan's campaign supporters. He has his arm loosely around her shoulders, and she reaches up to intertwine her fingers with his hand. The gesture appeases Matt as he visibly relaxes.

"And that poor boy is just a mess of nerves. I know Peyton is very much in love, but..." Karen's voice trails off, "He's just not cut out for this."

Nate chuckles humorlessly, "_No one_ is cut out for this," he says, "You're _bred_ for it, and even then you don't exactly like it." As soon as he says it he mentally slaps himself. He's never this terse, not with his mother at least.

But Karen smiles warmly, "A good point well made," she concedes, "It's been a while since we last talked. But I do watch every single one of your games. How've you been?"

Nate stirs his near empty glass, "Ah, you know me, Ma," he downs its content in a sip, "Same old, same old."

Karen nods, "And how is Lucas doing?"

"Pissed at Dad, feeling ashamed around you," Nate replies honestly, "When are you gonna let him off the hook for this one? He was nineteen and angry when he wrote that book."

Karen leans back in her chair, arms crossed over chest, "You know, I am well aware I wasn't a perfect mother." she sighs, "People do the best they can with what they have. Your father and I tried to make sure you—and your brother and sister—never lacked anything. We wanted every door open to you."

"Sometimes it felt like we were being _shoved_ through a door."

"Well, I can't speak for your father, only for myself," Karen replies, knowing the dig wasn't meant for her, "Though I may not always approve of my children's life choices, I've always respected them. And you've grown into a fine man."

Nate smirks, "I'm not so sure I'm finished growing up yet, actually."

"Don't belittle yourself, Nathaniel." Karen says, "It's an unappealing trait on you. You all may have deviated from your father's plans, but I believe all my children have done well for themselves. Peyton has a successful label, Lucas is a renowned author, you're an All-Star NBA player. I _am_ proud. Of all of you."

Nate smiles, "That means something to me, Mom." he says, "It'd mean something to Luke, too, you know."

A part of her is truly happy that Nate sticks up for Lucas like this. For so long (and at Dan's instigation) they'd been rivals. It's nice seeing them back on each other's corner again. "I'm happy Lucas is with Brooklyn. I've always liked her, she's a lovely girl." she comments instead.

"They're good together." Nate agrees.

Karen signals the waiter to bring her another drink, "Any truth to your father's thinking that the boy is not Lucas'?"

Nate suddenly straightens, "Brooke told me Jax is Lucas' son."

"And you think she'd tell you if he weren't?"

Despite all the secrets that had shoved their way out of the closet lately, Nate answers with a resolved, "Yes. I do."

Karen smiles once more, "You always did like to believe the best from people." she caresses his cheek lightly.

"In some families that's considered a good thing, Mom."

"I never said it was a bad thing, darling. But I do worry about you now." Karen admits, "I didn't use to. I worried about Peyton—God knows was she a wrecking-ball of emotions all throughout her teens." she shakes her head at the memories, "And I worried about Lucas' temperament and his continuous defiance. But you—I didn't really worry about you. You were impulsive, true, but you weren't reckless. You were always just a restless soul—passionate about everything."

Nate swallows, "Dad never thought that was a good quality. What is it he'd always say? Passion is essential. But only in small doses."

"Are you seeing anyone?"

The question throws Nate off. Neither of his parents had ever paid attention to his love life. "Why the sudden interest?"

"I always figured you'd be the boy in love with falling in love, an endless string of relationships. But I don't think you've ever really committed to anyone." Karen shrugs, "Your sister's getting married, your brother's a father and he's in a serious relationship. It makes me wonder if you just don't want that for yourself."

Nate shrugs, "I don't know, Mom."

Karen nods, "Well, you look very handsome tonight. This is a nice suit." She says running her hands over the lapels, "Slim-fit suits you. Simon Spurr?"

"How'd you know?" Nate quirks an eyebrow in interest.

"A mother always knows." Karen winks affectionately and then stands up, her hands smoothing over non-existant wrinkles in her dress, "Now, I think you've fulfilled your duties for the night. You're free to go. Remember dinner on Sunday, Nathaniel."

Nate stands up with his mother, "It really is good seeing you, Mom."

"I concur," Karen hugs him goodbye, "Oh, and Nathaniel," she calls out, "I can make the reservation for eight instead of seven. If you decide to bring someone, that is."

Nate rolls his eyes, "I'll think about it, Ma." he pecks Karen's cheek goodbye and then rushes towards the exit.

**-xx-**

Clothes-Over-Bro's headquarters are buzzing with movement as per usual. The receptionist sits at the large marble desk fielding calls with the standard greeting. "Good morning, Clothes-Over-Bro's, please hold."

On the top floor Nora, a young woman with long black hair, attentively waits for Brooke Davis outside the elevator. The brunette bombshell arrives punctual, as usual. "Good morning, Nora," she greets with a bright dimpled smile.

And the she starts making her way around the floor, stoping at various desks to systematically collect and drop off papers, leave her signature on documents and approve various layouts. The employees called her The Blur seeing as she moves remarkably fast for someone wearing five-inch heels.

"Good morning, Brooke" Nora greets and hands her a cup of coffee from Sant Ambroeus. "It's your coffee—mocha double latte extra foam." She adds while jogging slightly in an attempt to keep up.

Brooke gives her a perfunctory nod, "Is there foam?" she asks, "'Cause last time there was no foam, and I like the foam."

"_Extra_ foam." Assures Nora, "I watched them make it this time." her eyes glance at the to-do list in her hands, "Day's pretty light. You wanted me to remind you to schedule the sexual harassment for sometime next week, I left the number of the agency on your desk. The new intern starts today, she should be here at nine. Ms. Mars called, but left no message. T.J. Hammond sent flowers, the card said that it was lovely to see you again. And your mother called. She wants you to call her back and she said—I quote—your brother is still shacking up with that ex-con girl and you need to get him to sign the annulment papers your father drafted up. Then she said some other stuff I'm not really comfortable repeating." The assistant goes through the list dutifully, checking items off as she reads them off.

Brooke sips her latte, "I totally forgot about the harassment thing, I'll make sure to get it on the books today. Write up a memo reminding everyone that attendance is mandatory. Call Veronica's office and if she's in transfer the call to me immediately. And please type up a thank-you note for T.J., see if you can schedule a lunch with him while he's in the city. At that new place, the one that just opened up next to that little store that I love."

Nora nods quickly as she scribbles everything down in her legal pad. After a few years of working at CoB, Nora was pretty fluent in speaking Brooke-ese. "Nothing for your mother?"

"_No_." Brooke replies, cringing slightly, "And don't let my mother bully you when she calls, Nora. You're an excellent assistant. If she gets bitchy you can just hang up." she adds, "Oh, when the new intern arrives, send her in to see me." she says as she enters her own office, "Anything else?"

"Uh, yes." Nora nods, "A courier delivered this for you," she motions the box on the desk, "And you have a conference call with Alexander and Bergdorf's at two."

Brooke smiles, "Thank you, Nora," and with that, the assistant exits the office, closing the door behind her.

Brooke takes advantage of the brief moment of privacy and opens the cardboard box, inside there's a stack of gossip magazines—OK, US Weekly, Star, In Touch, The Enquirer—all of which feature a picture of Brooke and Lucas at last night's ceremony. Headlights ranging from _BRUCAS ALERT!_ to _IS NYC READY FOR A B/L REUNION?_ to _LOVE IS IN THE AIR_. Atop of them is a handwritten note in loopy calligraphy:

_Call me ASAP._

_—S.S_.

Brooke rolls her eyes at the request, but reaches for the telephone on her desk and asks her secretary to transfer her.

"_Sebastian Smythe_." The young publicity agent greets coolly in his polished voice.

"Seb, it's me," Brooke offers as greeting, "I got your package. And the note. What's up?"

And she can practically hear Sebastian roll his eyes, "_What's up?_" he scoffs, "_What is _up_ is that I, your _agent_, had to find out you are back together with Lucas Scott from a copy of the _Enquirer_! And that is _not_ okay. How am I supposed to manage your image if you don't keep me appraised of the important going-ons in your life? We need to release a statement. _People_ and the _Spectator_ have been blowing up my office asking for details._"

There's a seemingly long pause in which Brooke says nothing. "_Well!_" demands Sebastian, "_Are you two, in fact, back together? Was this just a friendly outing? What does it_mean_?_"

Brooke snorts at that, "When we figure it out, I'll let you know."

"_Sarcasm doesn't become you, Brooklyn. I'm being serious_."

"So am I." Brooke admits with a sigh, "We _are_ together. But it's new, and it's still...volatile—"

Sebastian cuts her off, "_It's you and Lucas—v__olatile is the only way you two _know_._"

Brooke pinches the bridge of her nose. Sebastian Smythe is the biggest bitch in the entire city—excluding Brooke herself of course. "Well, fuck you very much, Seb."

"_You know I'm a bitch when I wanna be._" Sebastian replies, completely unbothered by the insult. "___I'll send a copy to Nora and release the official statement this afternoon._"

"Fine." Brooke relents, "Talking to you has been lovely as always, darling." she teases.

"_You know you love me, baby._" Sebastian grins,"_Goodbye, Brooklyn_."

As soon as Brooke hangs up, Nora walks in, "Veronica's office said she's out on assignment. They were purposely vague." She informs, and then she gently pushes a girl into the office, "And the new intern is here." With that, Nora's off again.

The small blonde with three-inch heels has a certain pixie-like quality to her, "Hi," she says with a wave, "I'm the new intern from Parsons—well, I'm not a student at Parsons anymore, I graduated this year. I was at the top of my class, which who ever thought would happen, right? I probably shouldn't say that to my new boss. And I, like, so totally admire you. And..." she lets her voice trail off, "I should probably shut up. So I'm gonna. Shut up now, I mean."

Brooke chuckles, amused, "You're a rambler," she comments, "What's your name?"

"Hanna. Hanna Marin."

Brooke nods, "Well, Ms. Marin, I am Brooke Davis," she introduces herself with a jovial, but businesslike tone, "Welcome to Davis Enterprises and it's main subsidiary Clothes-Over-Bro's. I personally selected you for this internship because I was very impressed by your portfolio, and you came very highly recommended. You are aware of what this internship entails?" Hanna nods rapidly, "Good. I won't deny there's some gofer duties involved, but you'll be working directly with my entire creative team. I also like to have the interns shadow me for a few days, give them a sense of how the company runs. Now, after three months, if you we like your performance and you like the company, we can discuss a permanent position. Sound good?"

Hanna smiles, clearly in awe of the brunette, "Sounds perfect."

"Great." Brooke says, "Nora will give you a quick tour of the office and walk you through getting you ID and filling up HR's paperwork. Then you can start to work." she concludes, extends a hand for the young girl to shake and with that she's gone.

Clay stands leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, "That was very impressive." he says, "You were very authoritative."

"You mock, but I don't care," Brooke replies, raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow, "You've been pretty MIA for the past few days. Since Rachel left the city, to be more exact."

Clay shrugs, "Been pretty busy. Running two companies is kicking my ass. I haven't even hung out with Nate since he came to the city." He glances at his watch before tucking his hands inside his pants' pockets, "Ugh, I have to do lunch with a bunch of media bigwigs at La Grenouille today." he says, propping himself up against the brunette's desk.

Brooke wolf-whistles, "Power lunching with the big boys." she says, "Aw, my little C-Bear is all grown up now."

"I'm serious. You know me, I get distracted easily. To say that I'm already tired of Evans Enterprises is an understatement." Clay says detachedly, "I miss my _real_ job—_that_'s what I'm good at. Being a corporate big-shot does not suit me. This...is my father's life. It was never supposed to be mine."

Brooke rolls her eyes, "Clay, you are smart, capable and efficient." she assures him, "Don't let the press or anything else gets to you." She's all too aware that the ghost of Bradford Evans must hunt Clay from time to time. "Now you know I usually avoid the business section of the Times, but I saw yesterday that Evans stock is rising—and that's all _you_."

Clay leans down and gives Brooke a quick peck, "Thank you." he says warmly, "You are still my number one cheerleader."

"Always." Brooke replies with a loving wink. And they're both glad to be falling back into their usual routine.

"Hey," Clay says, "I've been meaning to ask you, what's Junior been up to lately?"

"Junior? He's enjoying the married life in Freemont, California. I think he's venturing out into alternative energy resources. Since Dad cut him off he's had a lot of time to work on other projects." Brooke answers, "Why?"

Clay says, "I am revamping the company management at Evans Enterprises. I need a new VP—someone I can trust to have my back." He pauses, "I need to free up more time so I can fly back and forth to L.A. without worrying that the company is gonna crash in my absence."

"Missing Chris already, huh?"

Clay grins, "Yeah," he admits, "Kind of amazing how quickly you can grow attached to them, isn't it?" The pair exchange knowing looks and laugh, "Hey, how're things with Lucas? Nate said you had an award party or something down at the Palace yesterday."

"Things are really good." Brooke replies, "Party was dull, but...it ended with a bang."

Clay recognizes the look on the brunette's face immediately, "Okay, and what does _that_ mean?"

"Luke got jealous of T.J. and started up on me about getting a DNA test for Jax so we got into a fight and ended up having sex in the coat-check room." Brooke narrates with a self-satisfied smile.

"Of course you did," Clay replies with an eye-roll. He can still recall the contest they'd started up at the Sigma Chi house of who walked in on Brooke and Lucas going at it the most. Those two have always been too into each other. "Haven't you thought about just doing the DNA test yourself and giving it to Lucas? Y'know, just squash the issue already and be done with it."

Brooke thinks about for a second and nods, presses button on the phone, "Nora, can you please find me a quick and discrete testing lab for a DNA test."

"_Sure thing, B. I'll email you a list in five_."

"Thank you." Brooke cuts her eyes back to Clay, "You've gotten smarter, you know that?"

"And handsomer," Peyton's voice booms from the doorway.

Clay grins his boyish grin, "Legs," he greets, standing up and pulling the blonde into a bear hug, playfully swaying her from side to side, "It's been forever! How've you been?"

Peyton and Clay weren't exactly best friends, but she did hold him in a special spot. He'd been her first college fling or whatever, and he'd been the first to see her as just Peyton and not Little Scott. They emailed occasionally, and exchanged yearly birthday cards. She'd been one of the first to send him flowers when his father had died.

"Not as good as you, Mr. Billionaire-CEO, but I get by." Peyton replies, punching his shoulder playfully. "Hey, B." she greets the brunette with a wave.

Brooke and Peyton had grown more civil towards one another in the past few years. Granted, they still weren't besties, but they certainly got along better now that they were (more or less) adults.

Brooke stands up and pulls the blonde into a quick hug, "Hey, Pey," she says with a smile, "What brings you around here?"

"Just bored." Peyton replies. "Matt's got a meeting at a gallery in SoHo so I'm stag for the day, and my wonderful brothers are off to the gym or something, effectively ditching me for the day."

Brooke nods, "Well, I got a conference call at 2, but I'm free right now," she says, "Wanna do brunch? We can hit Zabar's." She tempts song-songyly with a grin.

"Done," Peyton smiles excitedly, turns to Clay, "You in?"

Clay pouts, "I got a business lunch," he glances at his watch once more, "But what the hell, I got some time. Let's do it. I got Raoul waiting in the car downstairs."

"Great!" Brooke smiles, grabs her purse and instructs Nora to hold her calls while she's out.

And it hits her then that not so long ago she would've sworn this wasn't ever going to happen—her going out with Clay and Peyton together for the morning—but now it just feels completely normal.

Time really does fly by.

**-xx-**

Lucas and Nate head into the Sports Club/LA on 61st Street, their gear bags resting on their shoulders and a bottles of Gatorade in their hands. The pair change quickly into a pair of Under Armour basketball shorts and sleeveless t-shirts.

Nate's iPhone buzzes, a text from Spencer.

_Charming, my turn 2 surprise U. _  
_Pick me up at 3?_

Nate types back a quick yes, and tosses the cell phone into his bag. "So. What're we doin' today?" he asks, "Pool? Weights? A little conditioning on the basketball court? Y'know I gotta keep in shape, bro."

As he tosses his gym back in the locker room, a Blue Devils patch with a bold C in a white circle catches Lucas' eye. "Dude, is that the same gear bag you had back at Duke?"

"Yeah." Nate nods, "It's my lucky bag, man!" he shoves his brother playfully and rolls his eyes, "Now, c'mon! What'll it be?"

Lucas grins, "I got it," he says, "The rock-climbing wall."

"Ugh, come_ on_!" Nate groans, "You know I'm not a fan of heights."

Lucas smirks, "C'mon, we'll build up some endurance. It'll be fun." he says, "Don't pussy out, Nate." And that's enough to talk Nate into it.

The brothers slide on the harnesses, strap on the helmets and get to it. They're about halfway through when Lucas caves and tells Nate about what went down at the party last night.

"Wait, so you got laid in the coat-check room?" Nate chuckles, clearly impressed. "_Nice_!"

Lucas rolls his eyes in annoyance, "Out of everything I just told you, is that _really_ the only thing that registered?"

"Yeah." Nate snorts, "That, and the fact that you are the stupidest smart guy I know, dude."

"How do you figure that?"

"Well, only _you_ would bring up a DNA test after getting the usual Dan mind-fuck in the middle of a black-tie party 'cause you got jealous of B. and guy who turned out to be gay." Nate explains, "Look, I'm not saying you don't have a right to know for certain in black and white that the kid is yours. I'm just saying you went about it the wrong fuckin' way."

Lucas nods, reaching for another hold and pulling himself up, "Okay." he admits, "I'll give you that one."

"I do have a question, though," Nate says, "How'd you go from a fight in the ballroom to sex in the coat-check?"

Lucas shrugs, "Y'know, I apologized for jumpin' the gun and...I said that I loved her and Jax, and that it wouldn't matter if he weren't mine."

The answer stuns Nate for a beat and it takes him a few seconds to climb and catch up to his brother. "Is that true?" he asks, "Would it really not matter to you?"

"I..." Lucas stops, lets his voice trail off, "don't know." he answers honestly. "What I _do_ know is that I love that baby. And losing him would..." he shakes his head, clears his throat. "I can't even think about it."

It's the first time Nate's seen his brother be vulnerable since they were little kids. "Are you sure you can do that?" Nate asks, "Because Dan is not gonna ease up about this. And I'm sure if you ask Brooke more civilly, she'll do it."

Lucas says, "I don't _want_ to do it."

"You thought it was a good idea before." Nate comments, "Why not?"

"'Cause you can never go back..." Lucas replies, and then he lets go of the wall and hangs midair. "C'mon, I'm bored here already. I think this was enough of a work-out."

And Nate's not sure if Lucas means you can't go back after having to ask for the test or if you can't go back to not knowing the results, but he decides not to push it. "Fine by me," he says, "I told you I hate heights. Besides," he adds, "I got a date today."

Lucas shoves him, "A'ight, date boy," he mocks, "We can stop by the Spa before we go. See if they can pretty you up a bit."

Nate rolls his eyes, "Fuck off." he mutters.

**-xx-**

Nate pulls over on the street in front of Spencer's apartment and sends her a text that he's there. She comes down quickly and hops on the back of the bike.

"You crown, Princess," Nate teases as he hands her the helmet.

Spencer smirks, "Charming as ever, I see."

"We aim to please." Nate shrugs, "No Hanna today?"

Spencer shakes her head, "She's got a new job. Started today."

"Alright." Nate says, "So, your turn to surprise me. Where we goin' today?"

Spencer smiles, "East 18th Street." she says, "You can take Columbus, we'll get there faster."

Nate does as he's told and they arrive in under 20 minutes and find a quick parking spot—such are the benefits of a motorcycle: no traffic and easy parking.

Spencer pulls him to a street table at a place called Pete's Tavern. "They have killer burgers here." she says.

"How do you know I like burgers?" Nate asks.

Spencer quirks her eyebrows, "Call it intuition."

They eat and drink and small talk, and it's all very pleasant. They learn a bit about each other, too—

Spencer is amazed to find out that he is _that_ Nate Scott, the son of Senator Dan Scott and Lakers' starting point guard.

Nate is amazed to find that Spencer is one of _those_ girls from Rosewood, Pennsylvania where that girl got killed a couple of year back.

"So, are you the family's black sheep?" Spencer asks casually as they discuss familial expectations.

Nate smirks, "The Scotts don't breed black sheep." he says dryly.

"Funny," replies Spencer with a similar tone, "Neither do the Hastings."

Nate tilts his head slightly, smiles, "Something in common, then."

"Looks like." says Spencer, reaching for her glass, "Here's to that."

Nate clinks his glass against hers, sips his drink, "Cheers."

When they're finished eating he asks, "What now?"

"Uh, there's a 6:15 showing of a Woody Allen movie at the Angelika." Spencer suggests, "Not sure if that's your thing, though."

"Lets do it." Nate says, "I'll spring for popcorn and everything."

Spencer grins, "A true gentleman."

Nate chuckles, "Hey, listen, um, I don't know if you're busy tomorrow, but...my parents are in town and they're having my brother and sister and me down for dinner at Le Bernardin." he says, "Do you wanna come with me?"

"Ooh, meet the parents." Spencer replies teasingly, "That sounds serious."

Nate shrugs, "Only if you want it to be."

"Sure." Spencer says with a small smile, "I'd love to go with you."

Nate leans forward, "Hmm. The evening already got better and it's not even tomorrow yet." He says, then he crashes his lips against hers softly, his fingers playing with her dark-brown locks.

"Mmm. Even better than I remember." Spencer says when they pull apart.

"Yeah, well, stick around." Nate grins, "There's plenty more where that came from, babe".

**-xx-**

Brooke arrives at her Imperial penthouse feeling beat after a long day. Her hair is down and she tosses her five-inch heels aside as soon as she steps out of the elevator. "Vanessa," she calls out, "I'm here."

She figures Luke is still pounding away on his laptop down at Café Pedler, writing up his next bestseller.

What she finds when she walks into her bedroom surprises her in the best way possible: Lucas in his ratty Strand t-shirt fast asleep in her bed with Jax. There's a copy of _The Complete Grimm's Fairy Tales_ sprawled out next to them, and she figures that they'd fallen asleep reading.

"Aw," Brooke can't help but to coo at the sight, and she pulls out her iPhone and snaps a picture, "Hello, new wallpaper!" she exclaims quietly to herself, and then she writes up a text to Nora.

_N, not coming 2 the office 2morrow. _  
_U can run things, call me if there's a problem._

Brooke wants to spend tomorrow with her boys. She slides out of her pencil skirt and top, searches the top drawer for an old t-shirt and crawls into bed, cuddling up against Lucas.

Four years before she would've laughed her ass off at the idea of going to bed this early, but after a long day at work, falling asleep like this really is the best thing in the world.

**-xx-**

All three of them sleep in until ten a.m.

Brooke wakes up and orders breakfast from room service while she gives Jax his bottle. He falls back asleep after that, and Brooke sets him back onto his crib.

When the food arrives, Brooke jumps on the bed, effectively straddling Lucas. The blonde wakes up startled, but grins at the sight of the brunette on top of him. "Hell of a way to start the day, Pretty Girl."

"Breakfast is served!" Brooke exclaims, then she smirks, "And I don't mean me."

Lucas raises a skeptical eyebrow, "You _cooked_?"

"I called room service." Brooke snorts, "But you're cute for thinking that." she rolls off of him and pulls him to his feet. "C'mon! I took the day off because I want to spend the day with you."

Lucas smirks, "Oh really," he teases, "'Cause I got a few ideas of how we spend this day." he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, leans down to plant wet kisses along her collarbone.

Brooke moans, but pulls him off after a few minutes, "Easy, tiger," she says, "Your son is here, too. He doesn't need the psychological damage of mommy and daddy going at it next to his crib."

"Fine." Lucas pouts, "As long as I get to spend the entire day with you."

They eat breakfast and fight over the remote, and then they're in the kitchen stashing some of the leftovers because Brooke likes reheated waffles.

Then Lucas hoists Brooke onto the kitchen sink and she wraps her slender legs around his trim waist in response. "Good mornin'," Lucas whispers huskily. They kiss slowly, lightly at first. Brooke smiles, continues to softly press her lips against his.

Then it's like the damn bursts open and their bodies press against each other tighter, their chemistry still undeniable after all these years. Brooke slides back and accidentally turns on the faucet, the cold water hitting the base of her spine and sending shivers throughout her body.

"Aah!" a shriek falls from the brunette's lips, and Lucas rests his forehead against hers, both of them laughing like kids.

Then their lips find each other again. Faster, harder. "This is more the good morning I had in mind," he tells her, his hands already sliding off the t-shirt up her body. She raises her arms to facilitate the process, and he discards the garment onto the floor.

Lucas slides himself into her and Brooke bites his neck, his shoulder, his chest, leaving marks everywhere and suddenly it's like they're fucking teenagers again. But he can never seem to get enough of her, he always wants her. And the feeling is mutual.

They're both trying to be quiet, but it's not really working so Lucas bends his head down and covers Brooke's mouth with his own. And they reach their peaks all tangled up in each other and oh. holy. shit._—_it's a good morning, indeed_._

They spend the entire day together doing much of nothing. They play with Jax and have sex and eat and watch reruns of _How I Met Your Mother_ and discuss the merits of Ted & Robin vs. Robin & Barney and when the fuck is he gonna meet the mother anyways?

They're cuddled up on the couch and Lucas kisses her neck gently, "Today's been nice." he says, "I like it when we play hooky from the rest of the world."

"Just us." Brooke smiles, her index finger tracing random patterns in his chest.

Lucas nods, "That's all I need, babe." he says, "Just us."

Brooke steals a glance at the watch and groans, "We have to get dressed." she pouts, "We have dinner with your parents soon."

They get up and get dressed and Brooke looks beautiful in her Gucci dress and Lucas is looking adorable in his jacket and tie with his hair neatly groomed. And they think about getting to the restaurant late, but Matt and Peyton are waiting in the cab downstairs so they'd have to wait until later.

**-xx-**

Dan and Karen arrive at Le Bernardin early, naturally, and wait at the table for their children to arrive. They discuss trivialities without making any actual eye contact: the fundraiser, the next opening of one of Karen's cafés, Peyton's engagement party to the boy, the future of Tree Hill Foods—all the usual business affairs they both must conduct together.

Peyton and Matt arrive with Lucas and Brooke, and the couples sit opposite Dan, leaving the hot seat for Nate since he's the only one not there yet—you snooze, you lose.

Nate arrives at the restaurant, glances at his watch and realizes he's already fifteen minutes late. Dan will not be happy about that.

The hostess knows who he is right away, "Nathaniel, right," she says, not really asking, "You're with Senator Scott's party, correct?" Nate just nods, "Great. If you'll follow me please." She leads the way across the main dinning room and into a room labeled PRIVATE on the door.

"Late as usual," Dan snorts automatically at the sight of his youngest son, "Nice of you to take time to finally join us."

"Dan, don't." Karen snaps, sips her glass of wine, "Let's have a nice dinner, shall we."

Nate just sighs, "Nice, Dad," he says.

And then Nate _really_ surprises everyone when he introduces his date, a girl with dark-brown hair and a pretty smile. "Hey," he greets, pulling out a chair for her, "Spencer," he says, taking his own seat, "These are my parents, Dan and Karen. That's my brother Lucas and his girlfriend Brooke Davis. And my little sister Peyton and her fiancé Matt Saracen." he sighs, "Everyone, this is Spencer Hastings."

"Hello," Spencer smiles politely, "It's very nice to meet you all."

The dinner rolls by as pleasantly as it can given the party guests. Dan prods at Spencer's background mercilessly in an badly disguised attempt to gauge if she's good enough for one of his sons, and he's convinced that she'll do. For now, at least. Nate's not known for lasting relationships, but it shocks Dan that he'd brought such a well-groomed girl to dinner.

Matt, on the other hand, is not so lucky. Dan continues to throw not-so-subtle digs at him all throughout the evening, even despite Karen's reprimands and Peyton's attempts to defend her fiancé.

At one point Nate leans over to Spencer, whispers in her ear, "Welcome to the Scott Family Circus." Spencer supreses a chuckle, sips her vodka tonic.

They decide to skip dessert and call it a night early. As they leave, Karen reaches for Lucas' arm and pulls his aside from the rest. "I'm sorry I didn't get to talk to you more these past few days, Lucas." she says honestly, "And I'm sorry I've been so...aloof with you."

"Mom, I know how upset you were about all the fallout from the book. What I wrote..." Lucas sighs, "I never meant to hurt you, Mom. And I am sorry things got so out of hand."

Karen nods, "You're a wonderful writer, Lucas. What you wrote just...broke my heart a little bit." she admits, "I was upset, but it was wrong to take it out on you like that. And I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Really. You actually took it better than most." Lucas cringes slightly as he remembers Brooke throwing a fifteen-thousand dollar vase aimed at his head.

"Nonetheless, I owed you an apology. Coffee and books next time I'm in the city?" Karen offers, "We can go down to Café Pedler."

Lucas smiles, "I'd love to, Mom." They hug goodbye, and it's a calming feeling to be on good grounds with his mother once more.

The Scott kids stand on the sidewalk—Nate with his arm linked to Spencer's, Peyton with Matt's arm looped around her waist, and Lucas holding hands with Brooke. They wave goodbye dutifully at their parents as they get into their limousine and disappear into the New York City traffic.

Lucas lets out a sigh of relief, lets go of Brooke's hand and throws his arm around the brunette's shoulders, kisses the side of her head lovingly.

Then Brooke, Lucas, Nate and Peyton glance over at Matt and Spencer. It's Brooke who breaks the silence first, "So, how'd you two like your Scott family induction?"

Matt sighs, "You dad hates me."

"But I _love you_." Peyton kisses him and pulls him into a hug. "And mine's is the only opinion that matters."

Nate nudges Spencer, "How 'bout you, Princess?"

Spencer lets out a wry chuckle, "They're..._tough_." she says. She's not entirely unfamiliar with the great expectations that come from growing up in that type of family, "But it wasn't that bad."

Lucas smirks, "Congratulations to you both on making it through the evening,"

"Yeah. You did good, babe," Nate pecks Spencer's cheek, and then turns to Peyton, "What time do you guys leave tomorrow?"

"We gotta be at the airport by nine."

"Then we gotta do something." Prompts Lucas, "We've barely seen you, and Dan's outings do not count."

Nate shrugs, "Empire's just a couple of blocks away." he offers, "We can hit the bar."

They all murmur a general agreement, and Brooke says, "Fine. But two's my limit. I gotta use the breast pump tonight."

Everyone laughs, and Nate mutters that that was _way_ too much information.

Lucas smirks, "Don't worry, babe," he pecks her lips, "I'll drink Voss with you."

Brooke caresses his cheek, "Such a gentleman, Broody," she teases.

And then Peyton and Brooke link arms with Spencer, pulling her away from Nate, "C'mon, Spencer," Brooke says, "It's our turn with you."

"But don't worry," Peyton assures her with a smile, "we're far tamer than my parents."

Lucas raises a skeptical eyebrow, "I'd worry about that," he advices Nate, then nudges Matt, "Come on, Saracen, lets try to keep up with the ladies."

And the three gentleman follow their girls down the crowded New York City streets all the way to the Empire hotel.

It really is always nice to have friends to get wastey with.

**-xx-**

In Hartford, Haley is curled up in the living room couch reading a novel. Emma is sleeping over at Lyla's tonight, so she has the house to herself. It's pouring outside, but the lightning doesn't startle her. It's the piercing silence of the house bothers her the most, and she wonders if she'll ever get used to it.

She particularly hates moments like these, when past memories run through her mind like ghosts dead set on haunting her.

She likes her life, and she's proud of all she's accomplished. But when it's quiet like this she can't help but long for a time that she's not sure she can ever get back, and that fleeting feeling of discontent bothers her far more than she cares to admit.

**-xx-**

_Jake walks into the kitchen where Haley is finishing up the dishes and he can see that she's clearly upset, "What's going on?" he asks, concern etched in his voice_

_Haley turns off the faucet, spins around to face her husband. "I'm really trying to be understanding because I know how hard this situation has been for you, but, uh," she sighs, looks away, "it's really hard with all this weirdness between us. And it...we're out sync, and I don't know what else do to here, Jake."_

_"What are you talking about?"_

_Haley shakes her head, "You and I are totally in limbo."_

_"I know." Guilt crosses Jake's features, and he knows they can't keep circling the issue. Nicki just waltzes in and out when it's convenient to her, wreaking havoc without thinking of the consequences. And the reality is that Jake can't control her, doesn't know how to, and it's getting to be too much. "I'm really sorry." And though the feeling is certainly there, the words are lacking. _I'm sorry_ is not enough anymore._

_Tears form behind Haley's eyes, "I don't want you to be sorry, Jake." she shrieks, and there's desperation in her voice, "I want you to _let me in_!"_

_Jake walks over to her, pulls her into his arms, "I know, baby," He runs his fingers soothingly through her hair, and he wants to take it all away and make it all better, but he doesn't know how to. "And I am so sorry. But we'll make it through this. We're Jake and Haley. We'll work it out."_

_Haley pulls back to look into his eyes, and she feels safe, feels at home. _We're Jake and Haley, Haley and Jake, _she thinks_._  
_

_"We'll make it through this." Jake repeats. "Things will work out."_

**-xx-**

Haley sets down her copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ when she hears the doorbell. She wonders who it could be, since she knows Brooke, Lucas and Nate had the family dinner tonight, and Rachel is already back in L.A.

Jake Jaglieski stands on her doorstep, completely drenched from head to toe. "Sorry to interrupt your night." he says, the harsh raindrops hitting his face and running down his already soaked body.

It takes Haley a second to react, but when she finally does she's in full-on Mom Mode. "We need to get you out of these clothes." she says decisively as she pulls Jake out of the rain and heads towards the linen closet in search of towels. Jake is still standing in the foyer where she left him when she comes back. She grabs his hand, leads him into the kitchen and parks him down on a stool.

"Jake." Haley says, "How did you get here? Did you drive? Where's Dexter? Oh my god, are you drunk right now?" The questions come quickly one after the other, and Jake doesn't say anything for a minute.

"Um, Dex is at a campout with Jason and his parents." Jake answers after a beat, he shakes his head, "I'm not drunk. I drove here."

Haley nods slowly, hands him a fresh cup of hot cocoa, "That's good." she says, "Is everything okay? You don't look well. And you shouldn't be out when it's like this. The roads are dangerous."

Jake stares at the cocoa mug, licks his lips, "I don't know what I'm doing." he admits, "I'm afraid, Hales. There's no trace of Nicki. It's like she's vanished. What if she's..." his voice trails off, he doesn't want to say it. "How am I supposed to explain this to Dexter? I don't know what to do..."

And Jake breaks down and Haley can't help but console him—they're Jake and Haley—and she doesn't want him to hurt like this. "It's okay," she whispers, "It'll be okay."

"Look at us." Jake says, "Nothing is okay. You are the only woman I've ever loved. And I ruined us." he shakes his head, "Nothing is okay." he repeats.

Haley walks toward him, "Jake, you didn't ruin us. Things just...happened." She gives him the slightest of kisses on the cheek and her body brushes up against his lightly.

Jake grabs her wrist and pulls her close, their eyes locking together. They search each other's for second. He can't let her go. His lips press against hers eagerly, and then she pulls away.

"Jake—" Haley stares at him startled. _What just happened?_

Jake's hand touches her cheek, his long fingers entwining into her hair, their foreheads pressed together, "Haley, it's you." he says, "You. _We_ are the only thing that's always felt right, Hales. It was supposed to be you and me, forever. We can get it back. We can make it happen. I love you—I _still_ love you. I never stopped. And we can get it back."

"Jake..." Haley's voice is weak and she wants to look away from his eyes, to push him off. But she doesn't.

And then she gives in to the moment and presses her mouth against his—it's intense, exciting, passionate.

It feels like _home_.


	10. Surface Tensions

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the newly fixed Mac in which I wrote this on…**

**AN: So, sorry this one took a while, dudes. It's pretty filler. Hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Also, to whoever pointed it out: yes, it was a _really_ stupid typo on my part. I kicked myself when I saw it. I should have caught it before posting it, I used to live in New York. **

**Breakin' All The Rules**

Surface Tension & Great Expectations

**-xx-**

_Don't know if we'll make it,_

_But we know we just can't let it show._

_It's everything you wanted,_

_It's everything you don't._

_It's one door swinging open,_

_And one door swinging closed._

_Some prayers find an answer,_

_Some prayers never know._

_We're holding on,_

_And letting go. _

_—Ross Copperman_

**-xx-**

It's early morning in Hartford, Connecticut and sunlight creeps in between the bedroom curtains. Haley sits on the edge bed, towel-dries her wet hair, and watches as Jake slips on his boxers and then his jeans.

The sight brings a smile to her lips: tall and lanky, with a model-cute face and his wet, messy-shaggy hair. He looks young again, and it's nice to see him looking so relaxed for a change.

"I don't know whether I'm happy or just...wishing last night never happened." Haley admits suddenly. They hadn't said anything since waking up and taking a shower. The silence was getting far too uncomfortable now.

Jake licks his lips, "I do know." he says, "I'm happy. This feels right."

"This meaning what? You and me together?" Haley blinks, "Is that what you really want?"

"It's what we both want!" Jake says, "Haley, I love you. I never stopped. We just... This is our chance to make it right."

"We've done this, Jake. I mean, we...all the things that pulled us apart, they're still there." Haley shakes her head, "Why should we try again? Last night was just...comfortable. It's what we are to each other: safe and comfortable and—"

"—And right!" Jake cuts her off, steps closer to her, "You and me, together forever. That's the way it was supposed to be. When I asked you to marry me, I said that you were my constant. And if that's not true anymore then...I don't know anything."

"Well, maybe I don't know anything, either!" Haley replies, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Jake throws his hands in the air angrily, "How could last night mean nothing to you?" he asks, his tone equal parts angry and pained, "Every day we've been apart has felt like some shitty nightmare, except there's no waking up! How can you not feel any of it!"

"How can you even ask me that? Don't you get it?" Haley demands, "Jake, you're the love of my life. I don't think anything or anyone is ever going to change that. And that makes me feel happy and sad and frustrated and angry. Because we didn't make it, and I always thought we would. We built our lives together and when you left, you took a piece of me! And I can't get it back—_we_ can't get it back!"

Jake shakes his head, "Don't!" he says, "Don't put that on me. I asked you—I looked you right in the eye before we signed the papers, and I asked if you were sure. And you signed the papers anyway."

"What else was I supposed to do? I didn't want us to be over, but I couldn't just stay in the middle of nothing to see if things would magically work themselves out!"

"Well, it's not like they're working out so great right now, either!" Jake shoots back, "And what we have right now doesn't work! Being just friends isn't good enough. It just isn't _enough _period. And I don't think it's ever going to be enough. I want more, I want _you_."

"We're not gonna get back together because you don't know how to handle what's going on—that's one of the reasons we separated in the first place!" Haley says, "Look at us! We're not friends. Not really. We play pretend. We smile politely. The truth is we're just two people who pretend to be friends because it's all we got left. Because what else are we supposed to do?"

Jake turns away, runs his fingers through his hair, "Well, maybe we should just stop pretending!"

They're yelling now, and it's the blowout fight they'd been meaning to have five months ago when they first separated, but never actually got around to. They both suppose it's healthy in some way.

Haley stops, "Maybe we should." She says quietly, sits back on the edge of the bed, glances at Jake sadly.

Jake sighs, moves to sit down next to her, "So what do we do now?" he asks, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"Now we...don't break down." Haley wipes away a tear, "We keep going." she says, "And that's it."

Jake smiles and wipes away her other tears with his thumb, "Maybe the timing's just not right. At least not now." he rests his forehead against hers, "But I think we'll get it right. I believe in us."

Haley nods, "I like that even when I forget to believe, you never do." she says.

"And I'm never going to." Jake smiles, and he wants to stay, but he stands up, "I guess I should go."

"Yeah." Haley nods, and then calls out as he's out the door, "Wait!"

Jake turns to look at her expectantly, hands tucked into his jeans' pockets and an always-hopeful look on his face.

Haley walks over to him, stands on her tiptoes and pecks his lips softly. "I always knew I'd never be truly lonely because I married my best friend, the one guy who knows me even better than I know myself." she says, "And if I knew that you and I weren't friends anymore...it'd break my heart."

"Never gonna happen."

Haley nods, lovingly brushes a wisp of hair from his forehead, "Maybe we'll get it back."

"Someday."

And maybe for now, the promise of someday will do.

**-xx-**

Clay and Brooke browse around Barney's, randomly trying on clothes. They're both playing hooky from the office to hang out together.

"Okay, so, which one?" Brooke asks, waving two tops in front of Clay.

Clay eyes them speculatively for a few seconds, "The black one." he concludes.

"Really?" Brooke furrows her brow, eyes the garment once more, "You sure?"

"Yes." Clay replies, "Low-cut shows more cleavage. And more cleavage equals _good_."

Brooke rolls her eyes, punches his shoulder, "You're such a guy sometimes!"

"Yeah. Which is why you shouldn't bring me along for shopping trips." Clay chuckles, picks up a patchwork scarf and slides it around his neck, "How about this?"

Brooke kinks her eyebrows, "A little too Chuck Bass for you." she says, "Why do you want a scarf anyway?"

"Well, y'know, the jean-and-t-shirt-for-work days are over for me," Clay says, "It's all business suits and power ties and charity gala tuxes now. I need a new look." He picks up a St. Germaine fedora and puts it on, "Plus you know I hate all ties. How about this?"

Brooke chuckles, "Normally I'd say that is a ridiculous hat, but you actually kind of pull it off." she picks out a white-silk cashmere scarf off a rack and slides it around his neck, "And this would look pretty badass with that black Fioravanti suit you have."

"Not bad, Dimples," Clay grins, checking himself out in a mirror. "Not bad at all. Okay, we got my stuff. What about yours?"

"I need a dress for Peyton and Mattie's engagement party." Brooke says.

Clay raises an eyebrow in interest, "Ooh!" he exclaims, "You got to meet Nate's new babe yesterday, didn't you?" he asks, "How was it? How is she?"

"Surprisingly normal." Brooke comments, "She handled herself remarkably well with Dan, and she's...nice, grounded. I think she might be a good influence on him, but it's too early to tell."

Clay raises a skeptical eyebrow, "I've never liked good influences." he says, then shrugs, "So, you need a dress and then we're out, right?"

"Yes." Brooke says, "And shoes." she adds matter-of-factly, "I always need more shoes."

Clay rolls his eyes, "Of course you do." He complains all the way and watches her try on fifteen versions of what he swears is the exact same dress, then he checks out the parade of Guccis, Ferragamos, and Louis Vuittons. She winds up buying a gorgeous Napolitano dress and a few matching Manolo peep-toe heels.

Clay dutifully carries all the bags to the car, and Brooke rewards him with a kiss.

"Want to grab lunch at Via Quadronno?" asks Clay.

Broke nods, "Sure. We can get it to-go. Eat at my office?"

"Why not my office? I work, too, you know." Clay asks.

Brooke shrugs, "'Cause I have designs to finish, and there's models walking around in mine."

"Right. Your office it is, then."

They take over one of the conference rooms, kick off their shoes and eat while goofing around. They're interrupted when Nora pokes her head in, "Brooke, courier delivered this for you. Looks urgent." she says, hands Brooke a white envelope marked CONFIDENTIAL in bold, red letters. "Mr. Evans."

Clay grins his best lopsided grin, waves playfully, "Nora," The assistant blushes and leaves.

"No fucking my assistant." Brooke reminds him without glancing up from the paper—there it is, in black and white:

**Based on the genetic testing results, the probability of paternity is 99.9999%.**

Clay pouts, "_Fine_," He whines, though that has always been a rule. He's not allowed to sleep with any of Brooke's employees. "What's so urgent, anyways?"

"Paternity results are finally here." Brooke raises the piece of paper, "I swiped Luke's toothbrush and sent it in. It is now official, Jax is Lucas' son."

Clay nods, then furrows his brow, "Was there a chance he wouldn't be?"

Brooke's eyes immediately dart over to Clay's face, "Are you seriously asking me that?"

Clay licks his lips, "That's not an answer." he shoots back quickly, then raises his palms, "You know, I take it back. I don't want to know. It's your business, it's Luke's kid. And that's it."

An awkward silence wastes no time in settling in the room.

"Brooke," Clay says after a few minutes, "I love you."

Brooke half-smiles, quirks an eyebrow in confusion at the sudden turn, "I love you, too." she says, "That was random."

Clay shrugs, moves over to sit next to her on the couch, "I don't know, I guess we don't say that stuff enough." he offers, "And I know that we had that blowout a while back and everything, but...I never want you to think I take you for granted. I want you to know that, even when we're fighting, I always care about you. And I'm here for whatever."

"Back at you." Brooke rests her head on his shoulder, "You're my person, Clay. Always."

Clay rubs her shoulder, "Always." he repeats.

"And speaking of people we both care about," Brooke starts, "Have you talked to Rae lately?"

"I talked to Chris last night." Clay answers.

Brooke smirks, "That doesn't answer the question."

"Touché." replies Clay, "I don't know, B., Freckles and me...there's a lot of water under the bridge or whatever."

Brooke sits up, "You know, it's been my experience that the things that you complain most about are the things that you care most about. Unfortunately we don't always know that until it's too late." she says, "But the brightside is, it's not too late. And since you seem to be in the mood to say all those things we don't say enough, maybe you should call her."

"What's the point?" Clay asks, "She's in L.A. and I'm here, and we're both...too stubborn to ever admit that..." he lets his voice trail off.

"That you need each other?" Brooke finishes, "When your dad died you were a complete mess that even _I_ couldn't pull together, and when Rachel came back, she did. I'm not saying go marry her, I'm saying...you two operate better when you play for the same team. Maybe it's time to get back on each other's corner." she says, then adds, "It's what's best for Chris, too."

Clay smiles, "This is so _not_ the light lunch I had in mind for today."

Brooke chuckles, "Well, you know what they say," she says, "Best laid plans and all that..."

**-xx-**

Spencer sits on the living room couch of her apartment reading a novel intently.

Hanna walks out of her bedroom, glances at her roommate, "Prince Charming sleep over again? she asks.

Spencer nods, "Yes." she says, never looking away from the book in her lap, "I'm assuming you don't mind."

"Oh, I wholeheartedly approve." Hanna replies, "He's awesome, he's just..."

"My polar opposite?" Spencer offers.

Hanna nods, "Yes, exactly!" she exclaims, "He's all boy, all energy and all about Nate."

Spencer shrugs noncommittally, "That's actually what I like about him." she says, "He's...different from who I usually date."

"Yes. He is. And I like him, he's fun."

Spencer lifts a perfectly groomed eyebrow, "Why am I sensing there's a but in there somewhere?"

Hanna chuckles, "Spence, you're...a _Hastings_." she says as if her last name encompasses some greater meaning, "Great expectations are part of the package with you. And guys like Nate, maybe you shouldn't expect too much. He doesn't look like an expert in commitment."

"What's too much?"

Hanna shrugs, "Guess you'll find out." she says, "Just...don't give up on him, okay? I think he's good for you." And then she disappears into the bathroom.

Nate walks out of Spencer's bedroom then, he's in his boxers. "What'cha doin'?" he asks, jumps onto the couch behind Spencer.

Spencer grins, "I'm reading." She flashes him the book cover. She's reading _Impulse_. "Your brother's a pretty decent writer."

"I can't believe you bought that." Nate rolls his eyes playfully, "_When_ did you buy that?"

"I didn't." Spencer replies, "Hanna already had it. Apparently there was a lot of gossip about this book." She furrows her brow in curiosity, "And I find it weird yet convenient that everyone in your family has their own page on Wikipedia."

Nate smirks, "Yeah, well," he pecks her cheek, stands up to head to the kitchen, "Don't believe everything you read, Princess."

"Right," Spencer glances at her watch, "Crap. I gotta go. I'm gonna be late for class." she pecks his lips, "But I'll see you later tonight?"

Nate nods, "Yep." he says, "Want me to get some take-out from Gray's Papaya before coming over?"

"Yeah, that sounds good." Spencer says, "Hey, why don't we go to your place tonight?"

Nate shrugs, "'Cause my real place is in L.A." he replies, "And it feels weird taking you to spend the night at a hotel. Y'know, kind of like—"

"—a hooker?" asks Hanna as she comes out of the bathroom.

Nate raises his palms, "Hey, I didn't say it," he chuckles, clearly amused.

Spencer shakes her head, "Filter, Hanna." she says, "You _really_ need to learn how to filter."

"Mornin', Blondie," Nate says, passes her a plate of Eggos.

Hanna smiles, "Thank you, Hot Shot."

Spencer watches slightly amused, "Oh my god, you have nicknames for each other." she snorts, "You two have _bonded_."

"I thought you'd be pleased." Nate smirks.

"I am." Spencer says, "I'm also surprised." she glances at her watch, "And late for class." she stands up and grabs her bag, "But I'll see you later tonight? Seriously, lets go to you place this time." Nate rolls his eyes, but nods in agreement. She'd survived dinner with the Scotts, she could survive a night at the Imperial. "Great! Then I'll get the grub."

Nate smirks in that charming way of his, "Sure thing," he kisses her goodbye, "Laters, babe." And with that, Spencer's off for the day.

Hanna reaches for the syrup, "So, Scott," she says in a serious tone, "What'll it be today, _Guy Code_ marathon or _The O.C._ reruns?"

When Hanna's off work and Spencer's in class, Nate and Hanna usually watch TV in the mornings before he heads off for the day. Nate is turning out to be surprisingly adept at getting the BFF seal of approval.

Nate shoves a spoonful of Cocoa Puffs into his mouth, ponders it for a beat, "Your pick, Blondie," he says finally.

Hanna grins, "_O.C._ reruns it is, then!"

**-xx-**

Brooke arrives at her penthouse at the Imperial to grab a change of clothes before heading over to Lucas' loft, and she's startled to find Haley sitting on her living room couch.

"Geez, you just scared the crap outta me!" Brooke exclaims, a hand over her chest, "What're you doing here? Where's Em?"

Haley sighs, "I had sex with Jake last night." she answers instead.

Brooke's eyes widen like saucers, "What?"

"It just happened. You know, he came over and he was...so we...and you know..." Haley sighs, "And then today we just...ugh, you know?"

Brooke really doesn't know. In fact, she's still trying to process the fact that Haley and Jake had sex. "Hales..." she lets her voice trail off, "Are you okay?"

"Yes. No... I don't know!"

"Oh, honey," Brooke moves to sit next to her on the couch, "It's okay. It'll be alright."

Haley shakes her head, "No. It won't be. Because you'd think after that, we'd finally resolve something. I don't know, get some closure or whatever. Isn't that what everyone always wants, closure? I mean, I didn't sleep with him to get that, but...when we woke up this morning, I thought that one way or another we'd _know_. Make it or break it. Either we get together or end if for good. But I just woke up and...nothing had changed. We were still in the exact same position we used to be, trying to make it work, waiting for the perpetual Nicki shoe to drop, and praying that it won't."

"It's never that simple." Brooke replies kindly, "Specially when there's that much history. And you and Jay just..._stopped_. So maybe all it means is that you're not over for good yet. Maybe it just means you guys still have a chance of making it work again."

Haley shrugs, "I don't know, I guess...things change, and you try your best to hold it together, but somehow time goes by and what you had just..." lips pouted, she shakes her head sadly, "slips away."

"You know, Haley, you're the one that taught me that love doesn't need you to be perfect," Brooke says, "But it does need you to forgive. And I think sometimes that means you let some things go so you can move forward together. Because you're never gonna resolve every difference, you know?"

Haley blinks, "And you taught me that you can promise someone forever, but sometimes—despite your best efforts—it doesn't work out that way."

"Hales, no matter what, you've always been the eternal optimist. You taught me that real love doesn't quit. Where's that girl right now?" Brooke pulls her into a hug, rests her chin atop her head, "You're just going through a rough patch. It'll get better. People who are meant to be together always find their way in the end."

Haley sniffles, "You really believe that?"

"Yeah." Brooke nods, "I really, really do. And part of it is because of you."

**-xx-**

Rachel is soundly asleep in the living room couch of the beach house when a loud thump wakes her up. "Mm-up!" the redhead jolts up, clearly startled, "Mm-up, wha's goin' on?" she asks groggily, still adjusting to her surroundings.

"Good morning, honey!" greets her mother, Addison, with a smile, "What time did you get in?"

Rachel groans, "I was stuck in surgery all night. Patient with a subarachnoid hemorrhage came to the ER." she says, "What time is it?"

"It's early." replies Addison brightly, "And remember that you're still in time to change your specialty to Maternal and Fetal Medicine. Just saying, the apple doesn't have to fall from your father's side of the tree. Not all Gatinas have to be neurosurgeons."

It was a lost battle, really. Rachel had decided to specialize in neurosurgery like her father and aunt, but Addison wasn't willing to give up quite yet.

Rachel rolls her eyes, "Quit it, Mom," she says, her eyes scanning the kitchen, "Anything to drink?"

"I think it's a little early for wine," Addison says, "Even for _us_."

Rachel chuckles, "I meant coffee."

Addison nods, reaches for the pot, "Coming up," she says as she serves two cups, "I saw the new picture in Christopher's room. He looks happy with his father."

"You trying to make a point there?" Rachel sips the coffee.

Addison shrugs a shoulder, "I also talked to Amelia." she adds, "And we got you a present." she slides an envelope across the kitchen island.

"Okay. I'll bite." Rachel picks it up and opens it, "These are two plane tickets. For me and Chris. To New York."

Addison sips her morning coffee, "One way."

"You kicking us out, Mom?"

Addison shakes her head with a smile, "Sweetheart, I'm a far from perfect mother. And one of your complaints was always that your father and I didn't put you and your needs first. But you're a better mother than me. And Clayton seems to be a decent father. Or at least he wants to be. I think that living in the same city as both of his parents is what Christopher needs. Maybe it's what you need, too." she says, "I've talked to Charlotte, and you're one call away from becoming a resident at All Saints Hospital. If you want to, that is."

"What do you think I should do, Mom?" Rachel asks, her fingers running over the plane tickets. For the first time in many years, she's in the kind of place where she actually _wants_ her mother's advice.

Addison sighs, "I say that Christopher wouldn't fall asleep last night until Clay called and read him a goodnight story." she replies, "That despite my disapproval of him, he's still a kind and caring man—all the makings of a good father. And I think you two can figure out the rest as you go along. That's half of parenting, really, figuring it out as you go along."

Rachel sighs and glances at the tickets once more. She thinks of how Chris asks for Daddy and Aunt B. and Dexter and Emma pretty much every other day. "Fine." she licks her lips, "Tell Charlotte to make the call."

**-xx-**

Brooke arrives at Lucas' loft and lets herself in, "Honey, I'm home!" she calls out teasingly, kicking off her heels and tossing her bag aside on the living room table, "Where my boys at?"

"Shh," Lucas comes down the stairs, a finger pressed to his lips, "One of your boys just went down." he says, kisses her slowly, "But I'm wide awake, Pretty Girl."

Brooke grins, "Ooh, tempting." she says, "I am absolutely beat. And I have news. Want to jump in the bathtub with me?"

"Gorgeous, naked brunette in warm, soapy water?" Lucas pouts his lips as if he's pondering, "It's a tough decision."

"I imagine," Brooke rolls her eyes, pecks his lips, "But here's something for you first." she hands him an envelope.

Lucas opens it, reads the paternity results, "Brooke," he says, his tone serious even though he's half-smiling, "You didn't have to. You know that, right?"

"I know I didn't _have_ to." Brooke says, links her wrists around his neck, "But I _wanted_ to. I want us to be honest with each other, no doubts. I'm all in with you. This time around, I'm in it for keeps, babe."

Lucas leans down, presses his lips to her, "For keeps." he repeats, "And in case I don't say it enough, you're amazing," he wiggles his eyebrows, "Now how about jumping in that tub?"

They jump into the warm water together, and catch up on each other's day. Brooke's surprised to find that Jake stopped by to discuss what went down with Haley, and Lucas is surprised to find out that Haley did the same with Brooke.

Brooke sighs, cuddles up to his bare chest, "Do you think they'll get past this?" she asks.

"I'm not sure if they can." Lucas answers truthfully, "But I hope they do. They're better when they're together. I mean, they're supposed to be the constant, you know? When we were all wondering off like the prodigal sons, they were the center. And the center's supposed to hold." he sighs, "What do you think?"

"I think that when two people really want to be together, they can find a way. And when you truly love someone, then that love allows for forgiveness. That when it's real, you can get past the crap and focus on what's holding you together. What'd you tell Jake?"

Lucas shrugs, "I don't know, I mostly listened. And I told him that..." he lets his voice trail off for a second, "When people are supposed to be together, they find a way."

Brooke smiles that enchanting dimpled smile, "Hey!" she exclaims, "That's what I told Haley!"

"Well, great minds think alike," Lucas leans forward, pecks her lips softly, "You've been a good influence on me, babe."

Brooke's eyes widen with sudden realization, "Oh my god..." she exclaims.

"What?" Lucas' brow furrows with concern.

"Babe," Brooke says, her tone serious, "Haley and Jake are having issues. And they came to _us_ for advice." she deadpans, but the brooding blonde still isn't catching up. "Lucas!" she exclaims seriously, "We're the new_ Jaley_!"

Lucas chuckles, kisses the nape of her neck, "That's like the Holy Grail of relationship status, isn't it?" he says teasingly, "I'm a little proud of us right now."

Brooke spins around, kisses him deeply, "I love you."


	11. Brave New World

**AN: It's been forever. I am douche. I have no excuse. If any of you are still reading this, then this one goes out to YOU. **

* * *

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the newly fixed Mac in which I wrote this on…**

**Breakin' All The Rules**

Brave New World

"If you care about something you have to protect it – If you're lucky enough to find a way of life you love, you have to find the courage to live it."  
― John Irving

******-xx-**

The morning rays pour into the Imperial's penthouse kitchen, Brooke and Lucas sit on opposing stools over the island eating their breakfast.

The brooder click-clacks away on his MacBook sending out emails and checking his calendar for the rest of the week while the brunette reads over the Features section of the New York Times—this is their morning routine now: they read the paper, discuss their plans, and chit-chat for a while before heading off to their respective days.

"Hey, babe," Lucas says, "I got our plane tickets for Tree Hill this weekend."

Brooke nods, "Good. I talked to your mother and she asked that we be there before six." she glances up from the paper and flashes him one of her dazzling smiles, "Apparently we're part of the wedding party now so we have to be there early."

Lucas furrows his brow, "Why is my mother calling you?" he asks, curiosity getting the best of him.

"She likes me better than you." Brooke says matter-of-factly, shrugs casually, "But that's the case with just about everybody. I'm the likable one in this relationship."

Lucas rolls his eyes playfully, leans forward to peck her lips and snatches the paper out of her hands, "Quit hoggin' it, babe." He immediately looks away to avoid falling victim to the pout, changes the subject, "I just sent the completed draft of the book. Jess should be coming into the city next week, I was thinking we could have dinner."

"Sure. I'll get us some reservations." Brooke focuses on her stack of pancakes, steals a glance at Jax who's all giddy playing in his bouncy chair and smiles. She's beginning to enjoy the normalcy of their mornings together. It's almost like a real family, and she supposes that's what they are now—a family.

Lucas winks at her, "Thanks, babe." he says with a smile. They hear the elevator ding and Lucas frowns, "How many people have a key to this place?"

Brooke frowns, "Haley has one in case of emergencies, and Clay has a master key because this is his hotel." She replies with an eye roll—they're not nineteen anymore, she no longer gives out keys to her place like lollipops.

Nate walks in barefoot, wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a wife-beater. "What's for breakfast?" he asks, sitting on a stool next to his brother.

Lucas snorts, "How do you explain this, then?"

"How'd you get a key, numbnuts?" demands Brooke, equal parts amused and surprised at the invasion of their privacy. "And why are you up so early? Are you just getting in?"

Nate shrugs, "I asked the concierge." he says, picks off a piece of toast off Brooke's plate. "And Spence crashed here. She had to get in early for some research project. Girl works harder than I ever did in college." He smirks, "Heh, you could say I sent her off to school with a bang."

Lucas chuckles and high-fives his brother. Brooke scrunches up her nose, tosses a bagel at Nate's head, "Don't be a douche about it." she reprimands. "I hate it when guys get all brag-y about getting laid."

"Not bragging if it's true, Sunshine," Nate smirks, high-fives Lucas once more, then stops laughing at Brooke's glare. "So...whatcha guys up to today?"

Lucas shrugs and announces, "Uh, I just finished the revised draft of the new book."

"I gotta get to work soon." Brooke says, "Plus, I'm trying to clear off my schedule for Pey and Matty's thing this weekend."

Nate pulls a cold one from the fridge, "You mean Dan's Big Wedding Show featuring Peyton and Matt," he amends, popping the top off the bottle against the kitchen counter.

"A little early to start drinking, isn't it," Brooke comments.

Nate shrugs, "It's gotta be noon somewhere."

Brooke rolls her eyes playfully, as if resigning herself to the fact that Nate will never change, "_Behave_," she orders.

Nate places a hand over his heart as if to signify compliance.

Brooke turns to face Jackson and kisses the top of his head, "Momma's gonna miss you, baby boy," she whispers before turning to Lucas and pressing a soft kiss against his lips, "And I'll miss you, too. Take care of my kid, okay." She winks, then faces Nate, "And _you_ can leave the key here before you leave." she says, pressing a kiss to the side of his head and ruffling his hair as if he were a little boy.

Lucas smirks and waves goodbye as Brooke disappears into the elevator. Lately he's been spending more time here than at his loft. And he likes it, likes being a part of Brooke's routine. He thinks he can picture himself doing this with her forever and being perfectly content.

Nate slaps his arm and snaps him out of it, "Are you listening to me?"

"Not really," Lucas replies, "Are you ready for the return to Tree Hill?"

"Ready as I ever am," Nate says with a non-chalant shrug. "Speaking of, I am on top of the bachelor party. I'm thinking we drive out to Charlotte—bar, night club, and wrap it up at the strip club."

Lucas frowns, "Why are _you_ planning the bachelor party?" he asks, "Isn't that the best man's job?"

"Yeah, that's kind of a mess. See, Tim Riggins was supposed to be the best man, but Dan did not approve so he looked at the Phi Delta roster and lined up Logan Echolls to step up, if only for the photo op. Rigg's still handling stag night festivities, though, and since I grew up in NC, he asked me to hook it up. Plus, at Dan's insistance, we're on the wedding party, too."

Lucas nods, "Good to know." he says, "And Saracen talked to you and not me?"

"Yeah. But you shouldn't let it bother you. _Everyone_ likes me better." Nate says cockily, "I'm the cool one."

Lucas rolls his eyes, stands up to get Jax, "Oh, fuck _off_!"

Nate chuckles, "Dude, it's no big deal." he says, "Look, you can help me scout locals if you want. Guys' night out. Can't bring A.J., though." he sticks his tongue out playfully at the infant and Jax giggles, "Dude's too little. But I'll totally spring for a night out for him just as soon as he turns fifteen."

"Yeah. You're not planning _anything_ for my kid, man." Lucas shakes his head. "Ever."

Nate smirks, "Say what you will," he says, "Littlest high-five in the world, bro!" and Jax slaps his little hand against Nate's repeatedly with a smile. "Mini-dude loves his Uncle Nate."

Lucas grins as an idea dawns on him, "Uh, yeah, actually, he does," he hands his son over to his brother, "So much so that you're going to babysit him today."

"What? Why?" Nate whines.

Lucas heads towards the closet and starts pulling out shirts, "I have an interview with GQ today and I thought I was going to have to cancel because of Jax, but you're here." he says, flashes Nate two ties, "Which one?"

"Blue." Nate replies, "When in doubt, always go with blue. It brings out the eyes."

Lucas furrows his brow, "That is the most effeminate thing you've ever said to me." he states matter-of-factly.

"Spencer taught me that." Nate explains.

"Ah, the girl friend!" Lucas exclaims, "How's that going, by the way? First time I ever recall you being in something steady—unless you count that semester you and Alex Dupre were doing the whole friends-with-benefits thing."

Nate raises a skeptical eyebrow, "I don't know." he says, "I like her. She's...fun, when she wants to be. And she can match me." he shrugs, "But then again, we don't have all-out brawls like you and Brooke do or screw around on each other like Mom and Dad do or get stoned like Clay and Rae did, and I definitely haven't knocked her up like Jay and Hales."

Lucas settles on grey pants from Save Khaki and a Thom Browne button-down—casual but formal. For a second he misses Emma who usually picks out his suits for him. "Oy, that's _past _tense," he corrects, "Brooke and I _used_ to brawl. We're actually good now. We did a lot of growing up in the last few years."

Nate laughs, nods, "Yeah, I guess that's true." he states, "Nice look, by the way," he adds, "slim-fit pieces suit you."

"Spencer?"

"That was actually Haley."

Lucas laughs, "Yeah, you should check if you still have your balls, dude."

Nate rolls his eyes and tosses a toy at his brother's head before placing Jax back into his high-chair, "God, I need to start hanging out with guys more often." he says, scrounging up his nose.

"Definitely." Lucas concludes.

**-xx-**

Jake sighs as he walks into the expansive offices of Pearson Hardman and looks around. Hands tucked in his pants' pockets, he's successful and cut-throat attorney (at least when the ocassion warrants it), so he knows how to fill a suit. He looks like he belongs.

But Jake's still nervous, really, because this is a big change. Merging his firm with Pearson Hardman was a big decision. It means moving and taking on an entire new roster of clients. But it felt like the right decision: Sam's dad was still sick and he wanted to be closer to his family, which is in Lawrence, Kansas.

And Jake's...well, Jake is single and Dex has just been accepted into St. Jude's for the coming term and Emma prefers the city to Hartford.

It doesn't look like he and Haley are going to get it together anytime soon. A change can only do them good at this point.

Besides, taking the next step to further his career just feels..._right_. It's the one solid thing in his life right now, after all.

"Hey," Mike Ross says, snapping him out of his thoughts, "Paperwork's all done. It's official now. Good to finally have you onboard, man."

Jake grins, "Good to be here," he shakes the young lawyer's hand firmly, "This is gonna be interesting, to say the least."

Mike chuckles, "You'll love it here. Trust me." he says, "Sorry Harvey and Jessica aren't here to properly welcome you. Big case, you know how it is."

"It's okay." Jake says, "You're a fine Harvey-in-training, Mike."

Mike nods, "I take that as a compliment," he says, "Um, you know where your office is. Donna can help you out with whatever you need until you get your own assistant. And, uh, watch out for Louis. He's on another one of his tears today. Welcome to Pearson Hardman."

"Thanks." Jake replies, lets out a sigh as he looks around his new office and takes in the view, "Welcome to the city, Jaglieski." he sighs, "Brave new world."

**-xx-**

Brooke walks into CoB a little bit later than usual, but everyone's working at full-speed regardless of her absence.

As if magically summoned, Nora appears at her side almost immediately. "Good morning, Brooke," she greets, "No new messages this morning, but the deadline for the new design pitch is today so I need the final sketches so I can get the packets ready."

"Here." Brooke replies, handing over a folder with the completed designs for the new line. "Everything should be there, and remember to double check with Alexander that he sent you the right designs. Also, can you call and make a dinner reservation? Make it for four, Butter or Delmonico's should do. Please make sure I get the table in the wine room. Any night next week will do, and make it in Lucas's name then text him the details."

Nora nods and takes notes as she dutifully follows Brooke around the office floor as the brunette doles out instructions. "You're booked every night next week."

Brooke groans, "Ugh, then cancel whatever can be postponed." She pauses, an idea dawning on her, "Better yet, make the reservations the night of the Saks meeting. You can take the lead and represent me with them."

Nora brightens up, "Seriously?"

"Seriously." Brooke says easily, "I trust your the probie with you, she'll like the experience." She okays another set of designs, comments, "This looks great, but can we make this belt a quarter inch wider? Great."

"Hanna?" Nora asks, "Done and done! I will not let you down, boss."

Brooke's hands are full of more layouts to approve by the time she reaches her desk, just like always. "I know you won't." she winks, "And I think that's everything. Am I forgetting anything, Nora?"

Nora glances at her notes, "Uh...yes, Mr. Jaglieski called. He wanted meet up with you tonight—his place, nothing too formal. He's waiting on a call to confirm a time."

Brooke's brain automatically starts adjusting her day so she can get out of the office at a decent hour, "Tell him six..._ish_." she says, making a playful grimace, "Also, call the sitter and ask her if she's free tonight. And don't forget to remind me about the conference call with the London office."

Nora nods dutifully, "You got it, boss." she says, "Ooh, I left you coffee and a cherry danish in your top drawer." she adds as she leaves.

"You're a godess, Nora!" Brooke calls out, grinning like a little girl. She glances the newest addition to the collection of pictures on her desk; Lucas and Jax are flashing her matching grins from a frame that reads _Daddy & Me_. "I love my life."

**-xx-**

It's sometime in the after noon that Clay Evans shows up at CoB headquarters decked out in a Dior suit instead of his usual jeans and a buttoned-up shirt.

He casually walks into Brooke's office as if he owns the place, "Hey, have you heard anything from Rae?" he offers as a greeting.

"Hello to you, too," Brooke shoots back, gestures towards the blonde sitting across from her, "It's not like I'm busy or anything."

Clay rolls his eyes, "Right. Sorry." he turns towards the girl, "Clay Evans. Pleasure to meet you."

"Hanna Marin." She says, shaking his hand, "Charmed. Um, Ms. Davis, I can finish this up by today. Bring it to you at five?"

Brooke nods, "Sure, Han," she says, waving the girl off, "And good job!"

Hanna grins like a little girl at the acknowledgment of her effort before heading out the door. Clay tilts his head, checks out her ass as she bounces away. "Yeah, Han," he calls out, "Real good job!" He flashes her the trademark Evans grin and wink when she whirls around to smile at him.

"Down, boy!" Brooke orders, "We've been over this—no fraternizing with employees, especially the probies."

Clay smirks, still watching her leave, "Hey, they're not _my_ employees," he mutters, turns to face the brunette, "I find myself in need of a distraction lately. It's been a while."

"Keep it in your pants, Dopey." Brooke chuckles, "And no, I haven't heard from Rae in a few days, actually. I imagine she's been as busy as I have. Oh, speaking of being busy, does Jake want to meet up with you tonight, too? 'Cause Luke and I are headed down to Hartford together, maybe you wanna carpool?"

Clay looks at his watch, "Oh, I'm driving down with Nate." he replies, "Thanks for the offer though."

"Look at you, checking out your watch, dismissively thanking me," Brooke scoffs, "Guess you're really a business man now, aren't you? Back at Fortitude we used to have darts tournaments and casual Fridays."

"C'mon, cut it out," Clay replies, "You'll be happy to know I am actually finishing up setting up Evans Enterprises to run in my absence. I'll be back to being me in no time, B., so just chill."

Lucas stands at the doorway, knocks, "Hey, babe," he greets, "You busy?"

"Not for you." Brooke replies, flashing him a dimpled smile.

"Good. 'Cause I brought you lunch." Lucas waves a bag from Burger Joint, "Hey, man," He shakes Clay's hand and sits across from the brunette. "I even brought you a Guinness to chase it down—plus some chili fries."

Brooke walks over and plops down on his lap, "You know me so well," she pecks his lips, "Though I should probably start eating more healthy stuff."

Clay snorts, "Yeah, right," he says, "Like that's gonna happen."

Lucas laughs, bumps fists with Clay, then turns to Brooke, "I actually don't mind." he says matter-of-factly, "It just goes straight to your ass—in a good way, I mean." He grabs her ass to emphasize her point.

"I'll leave you two alone," Clay says, "See ya tonight. Hey, B., if Freckles calls you, tell her I'm waiting to hear from her."

Brooke laughs from Lucas' lap, "Alright, C." she says, "See you."

"Wanna eat in here?" Lucas asks, "'Cause I'd prefer it if you didn't have to move." His hands are still resting on her ass.

Brooke grins, "Ah, so you just want me to stay straddling you all through lunch hour?"

"Well, actually, I'd prefer it if we did other stuff, too." Lucas replies, grinding up against her suggestively.

Brooke throws head back at the friction, "Yeah, no," she shakes her head, "We can't do this here. Ah, I knew should've picked an office with fewer windows."

Lucas just chuckles, "Right." he says, "Lets just eat."

"You're dressed pretty fancy," Brooke observes, playing with skinny blue tie she'd bought for him, "What's up? And where'd you ditch my kid, by the way?"

"Nate is babysitting because I was at an interview with GQ." Lucas starts, "They're looking for an art director and a headhunter recommended me. It's looking pretty good, actually."

"Seriously?" Brooke claps excitedly , "Why didn't you tell me you were looking?"

Lucas shrugs, "I don't know, I guess I just wanted to wait until I had something solid." he says casually, "I've already written three books. You know, I got my dream of being a published author, and I've loved it, but...I think I'm ready to try something new. Besides, this new job is a steady paycheck and it keeps me close to you and to Jax. Making this work, that's my new dream. It's what I want."

Brooke smiles, reaches over to hold his hand, "That," she pecks his lips, "just earned you some desk-sex—assuming the conference room is free."

Lucas smirks the infamous Scott-smirk, "Oh, I'm down with that," he chuckles, "Lets do it."

**-xx-**

Brooke makes it back home at just fifteen past five, which means they just might make it over to Jake's at six-ish.

She drops her purse and kicks off her shoes, hears a soft rock-ish lullaby is coming from her son's bedroom, so she decides to check it out. When the brunette peeks into her room, she can't help the grin that appears on her face.

_Of course it's_ Sweet Child O'Mine, she thinks.

Lucas always did like Guns 'N Roses. In fact, he and Jake used to sing that same song to Emma. What's more, for whatever reason, the song also seems to soothe her—no, _their _kid. She needs to get used to saying that—_theirs_. Huh, like father like son.

Lucas turns off the iPod speakers and turns off the light. "Hey," he smiles at the sight of the brunette, "You're home early."

"I managed to slip away," Brooke replies, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head against his chest.

Lucas hands cradle her head and he presses a kiss into her chocolate locks, "And how was your day, darling?" he jokes, "Mine was just swell!"

"I'm overworked as usual," Brooke replies, "But I like it, and I am now trying to delegate more."

Lucas chuckles, "I wasn't aware you knew the meaning of the word."

Brooke slaps his chest, "I'm learning," she pecks his lips, "Compromise, babe. It's an art form."

"Very true." Lucas agrees, pecking her lips once more, "Then again, you always were a smart one."

**-xx-**

Clay and Nate are already at Jake's place by the time Brooke and Lucas arrive.

The gang settles down around the kitchen island, and it's by far the most casual business meeting any of them have had in a while.

"No need to keep it down," Jake says, "Dex is at yet another sleepover. That kid has a better social life than I ever did."

"Awesome." Nate says as he scavenges the fridge for some grub and something to drink, "Now can we get down to business. The suspense is killing me."

Brooke slaps the raven-haired Scott upside the head, "Play nice," she warns, "But seriously, what's up, Jay?" The whole thing feels weird, really, because she still isn't quite able to separate Jake and Haley in her mind, and it just feels weird to not have her here rounding up the group. Between Haley and Rachel's absence there's a palpable whole in the group.

"Look, guys, this is kind of an informal announcement, but I wanted to tell you all together," Jake starts, "I, uh, merged the law firm. Sam wanted to move closer to his family, and Pearson Hardman had been after me for a while now. It doesn't really change things, if anything it just means you're gonna be getting a bigger, five-star treatment. I'm moving into the city next week."

There's a stunned silence for a few seconds before anyone reacts.

Lucas sighs, "Congratulations!" he exclaims, "This pretty big, right? I mean, Pearson Hardman is a pretty big, prestigious law firm."

"Yeah, it is," Jake says, kind of surprised at the positive reaction, unsure of what he was expecting from them, "So, you're all fine with this?"

Brooke stands up, "Yes." she says, moves over to give him a kiss and a hug, "Of course we are. I, for one, am ecstatic to my Jakey boy in the city!"

"Toatally, man," Nate says, "You've always done a killer job. I'm happy for you."

Clay nods in agreement, "Yeah, dude," he adds, "You've done good. In fact, I think this warrants a celebration. Anyone agree, huh?"

"It'll be just like old time, bro," Nate says, clapping Jake's back, "Pizza, cheap beer and our highly infectious party spirit."

They fall into their old patters pretty quickly. Lucas gets some jams going on the stereo, Jake brings out his guitar, Nate orders the food, and Brooke and Clay handle the booze. Unlike old times, they don't get fall-flat-on-your-ass drunk, but they do get a slight buzz going on. They're in the middle of a Rock Band game when the phone starts ringing.

Brooke stumbles her way towards the ringing phone, signals everyone to quiet down, "Whoo! Hey, hi, hello!... Yeah, but this is Brooke, what's up?" she answers amid a mess of giggles. "Um, yeah. Hang on a second," she covers the speaker and turns to the guys, "Jay-Jay, they asked for Mr. Jacob Jaglieski."

Jake reaches for the phone, drops onto the couch, "This is Jake Jaglieski." His face hardens, "Uh, are you sure? ...Yeah, no, I get it... Thank you."

It's Lucas who first notices his friend's sudden change in demeanor after hanging up the phone. He turns down the music. "Jake, you okay, man?" he asks, "What happened?"

"That was the Hartford Police Department." Jake answers, not quite able to swallow down the lump in his throat, "They need me to come down tomorrow. They think they found Nicki's body."


	12. It's All About Us

**AN: Shout out to everyone who is still reading this. Much love out to you, dudes. I'm psyched so many of you are still reading, and Pam is back too so yay! This is mostly a filler chapter. Such is life. Also, thanks to _notyetanotheralias_ for the correction. I have updated the disclaimer. **

* * *

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the Mac in which I wrote this on…**

**Breakin' All The Rules**

All About Us

"I wonder if things can happen too early or too late or if everything happens at exactly the right time."

—Simon Van Booy

******-xx-**

Lucas walks out into the penthouse's living room, his shirt not yet buttoned to the top, "Hey, kid," he calls out, "C'mon, help me pick out a tie."

Emma jumps off the couch and follows him into the walk-in closet, but the usual bounce and smile are missing. She's been crashing at the Imperial for the past few days while Jake deals with the move and the funeral arrangements since there was no one else around to take care of the messes Nicki left behind.

Haley had been helping Jake out as much as she could, as much as he was letting her.

"Here." Emma settles on a plain black tie. Something proper for the occasion, she decides, because that's what everyone keeps saying—a _proper_ funeral, a _proper_ outfit, a _proper_ service.

But Dexter hasn't said a word since finding out his mom is dead, and Emma figures there's nothing proper about that, so why should all the other stuff matter?

Emma holds on to the garment tightly, "I can tie it." she says quietly. The brooder nods and kneels in front of her, raising his shirt's collar. The girl's small hands dexterously make a flawless knot, "All done."

Lucas adjusts it a bit, impressed by her skills. It reminds him of Haley, and how she used to the same thing for him and for Jake. "Thanks, Em," he says softly, presses a kiss to the top of her head. "You did good."

"Hey, Ems," Brooke flashes her best dimpled smile in an attempt to brighten up the mood, "You ready to go?" Emma nods and Brooke sighs, kneels in front of her, "Sweetie, you know you don't have to go, right? If you don't want to, I can stay with you. It's okay."

Emma nods once more, "Yeah, but I wanna go," she says, "Dex needs someone. I should be there."

Brooke smiles, tucks her hair behind her ears, "Anyone ever tell you you're too smart for your age?"

"I love you, Aunt B." Emma pulls the brunette into a tight hug.

Brooke rests her chin atop Emma's head, "I love you, too," she says, "To the moon and back, squirt."

It's the first thing that prompts a smile from the girl, "To the moon and back, Aunt Brooke." she repeats.

Lucas walks out of the bedroom, his hands buttoning up his jacket, and smiles at the sight. "You guys ready to go? Car's downstairs."

Brooke glances at her watch, "Um, why don't you two head out," she proposes, "I gotta wait for Rachel."

"Uh, we can wait a few extra minutes if you want." Lucas offers.

Brooke nods, "Yeah. That'd be great," she pulls Lucas into a half-hug, "Thanks, babe."

"No problem." Lucas presses a kiss to her forehead. "We got time."

As if on cue, the hotel phone rings. The concierge informing them that Ms. Gatina is on her way upstairs. "Rae's here."

"Sorry I'm late." Rachel says when she walks in, sets Chris's bag on the table and kneels in front of her son. "All right, babe, be a good boy." she presses a kiss to his forehead, "I'll be back later, okay?"

Brooke winks at Chris as he rushes past her, "See ya later, C-Robb!" she calls out with a grin. "You ready, Rae?"

Rachel nods, "As I'll ever be." she replies, "I hate funerals."

**-xx-**

"I hate funerals."

Clay Evans declares as he plops down on to an armchair, gripping a glass of scotch like it's a lifeline. "I also hate wakes." he adds.

It's the second time he's ever worn this suit—the last time being his father's funeral—and after this he's thinking of burn it. It's not like he'll ever want to wear it again.

Lucas nods, "I hear ya, man," he says, clinging his glass against Clay's.

The small gesture brings a smile to Brooke's lips because she can recall a time when they would've started throwing punches at each other just for the heck of it. "Well, we're not here 'cause it's fun," she says, "We're here to be supportive."

"And here I thought that it was because if we didn't show up for the funeral no one would." pipes in Rachel.

Lucas snorts, "Yeah, that too." he says, "I'm gonna see if I can find Hales."

"Um, I'll go find Jake." adds Rachel, "I think it's my turn to check on him."

The funeral had been pretty small and quiet, but a lot of people came to the wake to show Jake their support and offer their respects.

Brooke sits on the arm of the chair next to Clay, "This can't be much fun for you." she says, "You okay?"

Clay just shrugs noncommittally. "This is sad, really. I mean, Nicki died alone in some back alley and she left her kid behind and pretty screwed up about it, and no one showed up at the funeral."

Brooke sighs, "God, I feel so bad for Dexter right now. He's just a kid."

"That's my point," Clay continues, "Nicki's life added up to nothing. Virtually no one's gonna miss her."

Brooke figures that Dexter will miss her, but that doesn't really bring much comfort to anyone. It's just a sad situation.

"I guess I just worry sometimes." Clay says matter-of-factly.

Brooke kinks her eyebrows, "About what?"

"That I'm never gonna find a girl I love as much as I love you." Clay replies. "That I'm always going to be alone... That no one's ever gonna miss me."

Brooke pulls him into a hug and they laugh somewhat bittersweetly, "You will find a girl who is going to make you fall silly in love with her, and I'm going to be there to mock you endlessly about it." she assures him, "You might feel lonely sometimes, but you are never alone. And, should you die first, I will never stop missing you."

Clay cracks a small grin, "Promise?"

"Promise." Brooke presses a kiss to the side of Clay's forehead.

**-xx-**

Lucas finds Haley sitting alone on the porch swing, her eyes set on the horizon apparently longing to be anywhere but here.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he offers, sitting next to her.

Haley smiles sadly, "I don't think they're worth much."

"They are to me." Lucas says endearingly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, "You know I'm always here to listen."

Haley sighs, looks away once more, "I wished that woman ill so many times." she says, "I resented her and I blamed her for so much crap. I...I hated her, and now she's actually dead. And I feel guilty. I know I didn't do anything, but I still feel guilty that I ever wished this on her."

"Hey," Lucas lifts her chin, "This isn't your fault. No matter how much you may have disliked her, how much you may have hated her, you never wanted this to happen. You are a good person, Hales. Everyone knows that. You've gone above and beyond here, just like you always do."

Haley sniffles and leans over to hug him, burying her face in his chest, "Thanks for coming, Luke."

Lucas smiles and presses a kiss to the top of her head, "I'm always here, Hales," he says into her hair, "You know that."

**-xx-**

Rachel walks into the kitchen, smiles, "So this is where you're hiding."

"Yeah, just close the door please," Jake replies.

Rachel does as she's told, "How're you handling things?" she asks, jumping up to sit on the counter across from Jake.

"I don't know. It's been...weird. I mean, Hales has been trying to help, but I just... God, this is so fucked up!" Jake scoffs, "I never signed up for this. This isn't what my life was supposed to be."

"Yeah, but it's what you were dealt." Rachel replies offhand, "And the way I figure it, you can complain about the hand you were dealt or you can play your way through it. Either way, life's gonna keep moving forward."

Jake sighs, "Dexter hasn't said a word, you know?" he says, "Since I told him, he hasn't spoken. They keep telling me he's just processing, but...how does anyone process that? How is a nine-year-old supposed to deal with the fact that his mother died?"

"I've no idea." Rachel replies honestly, "But I'm guessing he just needs to know you're there for him no matter what."

Jake blinks, "What about you?" he asks, opting to change the subject.

"What about me?" Rachel asks back.

"You here for good?" Jake asks, "'Cause the Rachel I remember would've never moved across the country for a guy."

Rachel chuckles, "Well, the Rachel you remember has changed. And I did move across the country for a guy." She says, "Just not the one you're thinking of. I made the decision to move because I think it's the best thing for Christopher right now. He's the one that always comes first with me now. Which, I'm sure, is a feeling you're pretty familiar with."

"You know, sometimes I wake up and I have to remind myself that we're all parents now." Jake says, "As much as I love my kids, I still don't think I'm fully prepared to be responsible for two lives. I'm afraid I'm gonna screw them up irreparably or something."

Rachel flashes him a smile, "You know, my dad nearly died a while back." she says matter-of-factly, "One of the scariest moments of my life. I went to see him at the hospital while he was still sedated. When I was sure he was going to be okay, I left without him ever knowing. We all deal with stuff differently, but that doesn't mean we don't get over them. Dexter will be all right. If there's one thing he isn't lacking, it's people who love him. And that goes for you, too. If you ever need anything—someone to talk to or just someone to make wonderfully witty quips about the situation—I'm here."

"Thanks, Ray." Jake says sincerely, "That's the first thing anyone's said that actually...helps."

Rachel winks, "Don't mention it, Jay."

**-xx-**

Nate paces around the house without really talking to anybody, hands tucked inside his suit's pockets. He feels slightly out of place, as he's sure most people here do, because he'd only ever talked to Nicki a handful of times and the bulk of had been when they were still in high school. He figures that this is just another one of those things he's supposed to make an appearance at, and he's used to that by now.

He spots Emma sitting alone at the top of the stairs and climbs up to her, "Hey, Ems," he greets, sitting down next to her, "Rough day, huh?"

"Dexter's not talking." Emma says sadly, "Not even to me. And he _always_ talks to me."

Nate smiles because he can remember a time when her and Luke and Peyton had a similar cone of silence, when even if they weren't uttering a word to anyone else, they still talked to each other about everything. "Just 'cause he isn't talking doesn't mean he doesn't need you or want you around." he tells her, "Sometimes the only thing you can do is be with someone without saying anything."

Emma kinks her eyebrows in a very Haley-like manner, "Mom always said you were dumb," she says matter-of-factly, "But that actually sounds really smart."

"Your Mom really shouldn't talk," Nate replies with a smile, "Since I'm the one who got her through Advanced Calculus II back at college."

The comment elicits a small giggle from Emma, and Nate's relieved that he can still amuse someone, "Thanks, Uncle Nate."

"Anytime, Sugarpop," Nate winks and bumps fists with her, "Y'know I always got your back."

**-xx-**

Brooke walks outside to find Lucas sitting alone on the porch swing. "Hey, Broody," she says, sitting down next to him, "I missed you in there."

"I was just keeping Haley company." Lucas says, "She went to get Emma. God, it's crazy how one thing can just affect everybody like this. Hales barely ever spoke to Nicki and she feels like crap right now. And Jake...well, he's just stuck cleaning up a mess that was never really his, you know?"

Brooke nods, "Yeah, I get it," she sighs, "I didn't really want Clay to deal with another funeral so soon, even if it's one for a woman he barely knew."

Lucas throws an arm around her shoulders and pulls her close, "You wanna get out of here?" he asks, "It's been a long day."

"Yeah," Brooke says, "Yeah, I just wanna go home and crawl into bed."

"Speaking of home," Lucas adds, "I was talking to Rachel, and she told me her father sold the Brownstone so she's looking for a place to stay now. And since she actually likes my loft, I was thinking she could buy it from me, and we could move in together."

Brooke blinks, "Luke—"

"Now, I know you're ready to move out of the Imperial yet, and that's fine. I don't mind." Lucas says, "It's got plenty of space, it's Jax's first home, and...you've already given me one quarter of the walk-in closet so just think about it. We can wait for a bit if you think it's too fast, but I just want you to know I'm ready."

Brooke grins and crashes her lips against his, "Yes!" she exclaims happily, "Yes! Yes! Yes!" she pecks his lips in between each kiss, moves to sit on his lap, "Luke, I would love to have you move in with us."

"Yeah?" Lucas asks and Brooke nods, "Good. 'Cause I gotta say, waking up next to you every morning sounds pretty amazing to me."

Brooke circles her arms around his neck and leans her forehead against him, "Right back at you, babe," she says, "Now lets go _home_."

**-xx-**

Rachel sticks a spoon into each of the mugs and stirs in the cocoa mix with the warm milk, "It's been a long day." she says, handing one of the mugs to Brooke.

"You sure you're okay without Chris here?" Brooke asks, jumping up on the kitchen counter.

Rachel shrugs, "Yeah. I actually am." she says, "Besides, he's been asking for 'a sleepover with daddy' for a while, so..."

Brooke nods, "Well, I'm glad. I didn't want Clay to be alone tonight." she says, "Hey, you sure you're cool with staying with Jax all weekend?" She asks, taking a sip from her mug, "'Cause I can still get a sitter or something if you're too busy."

Rachel shakes her head, "No, it's fine." she says, "I don't start at the new hospital until next week. Besides, I'm due for some Rachel/Jackson time." She sneaks a glance at the couch where Lucas is currently asleep with Jax cuddled up against his chest, a blanket draped over them. "You think he'll be that well-behaved with me?"

"Eh, he's got half my genes, I make no promises as to what he defines as good behavior." Brooke says, smiling at the sight—lately she finds nothing sweeter than her two boys together. "I don't wanna wake 'em up. They look so cute."

Rachel chuckles, "Let them sleep, then," she says, "I'm sure Jax will wake him up sometime in the a.m. And they do look pretty cute together. Jax even has that faux-hawk going for him, just like his daddy used to have."

Brooke rolls her eyes, "I assume you're crashing here tonight." she says, "Are you serious about taking Luke's loft, by the way?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Rachel says, "I mean, it's close to you, it's close to the hospital, it's got plenty of space."

Brooke nods, "Yeah, I've always liked it. Besides, it'll be good to have you close by again." she offers, "God, I can't believe Lucas is moving in with me. _Again_." she shrugs, "I kinda swore the last time I kicked him out that I'd never share a roof with him."

They laugh about it, and finish what's left of their cocoa. Rachel suggests watching some cheesy old movie on cable and Brooke brings popcorn to bed, and they fall asleep with the TV on.

**-xx-**

When Lucas wakes up at 5 a.m to change Jax's diaper, he turns it off and throws a blanket over them before settling back on the couch. He's surprised to find that he's actually missed this, missed that glow that comes from Brooke when she's surrounded by all the people she considers family, and he guesses that having the redhead in such close proximity will be good for all of them.

Brooke and Rachel wake up at the same time in the afternoon, like their internal clocks have somehow managed to sync up over the years, and walk into the kitchen together.

"Mornin', babe," Brooke stands on her tiptoes to give Lucas a good morning kiss and steals away his coffee cup for a sip, "Ugh, what's in this? There's never enough coffee in your coffee."

Lucas chuckles, "That's because I'm not a caffeine addict." he says, taking back his coffee cup, "Your coffee is in the pot. Don't worry, I mixed in enough to make sure you get your mid-morning jolt."

"Hey, B." calls out Rachel, "Someone must've broken in 'cause there's actually something besides take-out and breast milk in your fridge. There's actual _food_ in here now, as in the kind you have to cook."

"Yeah, we can't keep living off room service. This is not Eloise at the Plaza" Lucas says matter-of-factly, "I went to the market while you two were sleeping."

Brooke raises her eyebrows, "Does this mean you actually expect me to cook for you now?"

Both Lucas and Rachel snort, "No, I most definitely do not." Lucas replies, "I still don't trust you anywhere near a stove."

"Mm, wise decision," Rachel comments, sipping her freshly poured coffee.

Lucas grins, "Here," he says, tossing the redhead a set of keys, "Loft is officially yours now, Rae."

"Thanks, Broody," Rachel replies, "You two all packed up for tomorrow's trip?"

It's Brooke who answers for them, "Yes. I talked to Peyton and my bridesmaid dress along with your groomsman tux will be delivered to the church on the day of the wedding. I packed up my dress for the rehearsal dinner, and I packed you a suit. Nate called and said something about a night of debauchery after the dinner and that you're all supposed to wear a duke-blue polos and khakis so I packed that up for you, too."

Lucas flashes her a grin, "I promise I will be a very well behaved boy all throughout the night of debauchery." He places his right hand over his heart, as if solemnly swearing to behave.

"I am sure you will." Brooke smirks, "Especially since you know that Matt breaks easier than a twig and Nate is physically incapable of keeping a secret from me."

Lucas chuckles, "Ah, you forgot to mention you're amazingly flexible and mind-blowingly great in bed."

"I don't know wether to kiss you or hit you." Brooke replies.

Lucas pecks her lips, "Well, lets work our way up to the kinky stuff," he grips her waist, pulling her against his chest before crashing his lips against hers once more.

"Okay, cut it out!" Rachel pipes in, throwing a napkin at them, "Other people in the room!"

Brooke sticks her tongue out at the redhead, "Hater!" she accuses playfully, "I'm going to grab the paper downstairs, maybe see if Nate wants to join us for brunch. You two need anything?"

"Nah, we're good," Rachel says, teasingly tousling Lucas's hair.

Lucas waits until the elevator doors close to turn to the redhead and flash her the Tiffany's ring he'd bought years ago, "So what do ya think?"

Rachel's eyes widen at the sight, "Holy engagement ring, Batman!" she exclaims, "I don't know what to say, Luke. This is just so sudden. And Brooke and I don't really like sharing our toys like that, so marrying you would be kind of awkward."

"Ha-ha," Lucas rolls his eyes, "I'm serious. Look, I got the ring a long time ago, and I just...I'm tired of waiting for the right time. Y'know, I'm ready to settle down, and I want to do it with Brooke. We're both were we wanna be work-wise, and we have a totally awesome baby boy—we're a family already and I just want to make it official."

Rachel smiles, takes the box to inspect the ring closely, "Well, you certainly did your homework." she observes, "Tiffany's ring, antique setting, princess cut, and...four-carats. Impressive."

Lucas raises an eyebrow, "Yeah. That's dead on, actually. You have a good eye."

"Well, diamonds_ are_ a girl's best friend." Rachel smiles, "And you know our girl well. It is definitely _the_ ring. Brooke will love it."

Lucas breathes out a sigh of relief, "Yeah? Good, 'cause I've been saving it for a while." he licks his lips, grinning like a giddy little boy, "I just don't know how I'm gonna propose yet. I'm actually a little scared she'll turn me down."

Rachel laughs at that, "Please, Brooke worked out the emotionally stunted commitment issues a while ago." she assures him, "In fact, if she'd ever say yes to anyone, it'd definitely be you."

"So all I gotta do is ask?"

Rachel scrunches up her nose, "Brooke's not big on sappy gestures. A bed of roses and champagne would probably freak her out. It should be something personal. Something...yours. Aren't you a writer, Scott? Just script out the perfect moment. I know you've got it in you."

Lucas nods, pauses for a beat before asking, "Any words of advice?"

"Yeah." Rachel says, "You break her heart, and I will get Clay to break your jaw."

Lucas has to laugh at that, "Noted."

"Though, if history is any indication, Brooke's usually the one who breaks your heart, isn't she," Rachel adds, "So I guess I'd also advice to thread lightly. The Brookie Monster is a sometimes gentle, yet always allusive creature."

"Well, I'd like to think we're both past that stage." Lucas says matter-of-factly, "Nevertheless, with Brooke, threading lightly is usually good advice."

Rachel clinks her coffee cup with Lucas's, "Welcome to the family, Scott," she says, "I have to warn you, we're a very dysfunctional bunch."

"Oh, I'm aware!" Lucas chuckles.

Lucas finishes what's left of his coffee and stashes the ring back into his jeans's pocket. He's really doing this, it's actually happening.

**-xx-**

Brooke jumps on the full-sized bed, taking in the Green Lantern sheets and the basketball hoop that hangs over it. "So this is where you spent the high school years?"

"Yes." Lucas replies, dropping their bags in front of the closet, "I'm actually pretty surprised my parents have kept it like this. I figured Dan would've expanded his study in here or something."

Brooke kinks her eyebrows, "I always kind of pictured you and Nate sharing the same room and fighting over the top bunk."

"The bunk-beds are actually in Nate's room." Lucas says matter-of-factly, "But we never had the same room, he just...really liked bunk-beds."

Brooke laughs at that, "Well, your room is pretty much how I always pictured it."

"Mm, you spend a lot of time picturing my room, huh?" Lucas teases, he chuckles, "I am sorry my mother insisted on us staying here. It must be weird."

Brooke stands on her knees, links her wrists around his neck, "I don't mind." she pecks his lips, "I think it's kinda nice you've got an old house to come home to."

Lucas smirks, "Really?" he asks, his hands gripping Brooke's hips and laying her back before settling himself on top of her, "'Cause I always wanted to get a hot brunette in here, but I never could before." He adds, dropping kisses along her chin, neck, and bare shoulder.

Brooke lets out a squeal when she feels Lucas nibbling on her earlobe, her hands moving to unbutton his shirt, "Well, you just might get lucky today, Broody!"

"Definitely," Lucas's hands slide off the brunette's top and toss it aside, "Very lucky." he mutters against her porcelain skin.

Brooke is sliding the shirt off of Lucas's shoulders when the bedroom door opens. "Lucas, honey," Karen starts, stopping at the sight of her son landing on the floor with a thud and his half-dressed girlfriend turning 50 different shades of red.

Karen shakes her head slightly, "Less than three hours home and already it's like when you were in high school," she comments with a somewhat resigned tone.

Lucas hangs his head down, feeling slightly embarrassed, "What's up, Mom?"

"Car's coming in an hour to take us to the hall," Karen says with a smile, "You two should start getting ready."

"Sure thing." Lucas nods.

Brooke's cheeks could not turn any redder, "Thanks, Karen!" she calls out as the door closes, buries her face in a pillow, "That was mortifying!"

Lucas raises a quizzical eyebrow, "Out of _all_ the things we've done, all the things we've gotten caught doing, _this_ is the one that actually makes you blush? _Seriously_?"

"That's your _mom_!" Brooke squeals in protest, "I don't want her to think I'm easy!"

Lucas bursts out laughing, "We have a kid," he says, "I think-I _think_ she knows we've been sleeping together."

"Ass!" Brooke acuses, throwing a pillow at his head.

Lucas jumps on top of her, tickles her sides until she bursts out laughing, "Oh, I'm an ass?"

Brooke shrieks amidst a fit of giggles, kicking and screaming. "Stop!" she demands, "Quit it, Luke!"

Lucas stops even though he secretly likes the way she laughs like a five-year-old whenever he tickles her. "Okay, I hate that I actually got you naked and now you have to get dressed."

Brooke laughs, gives him a kiss, "Well, I'll let you cop a feel later."

"Thanks. That's very generous." Lucas mocks, rolling off of her, "Oh, I really have to get out of bed because then we'll never leave."

The bedroom door opens again, this time it's Nate leaning against the door frame, "Dude, did mom seriously walk in on you?" he asks, munching on an apple. "Nice!"

Lucas rolls his eyes, "Get out, dickweed," he says, and he realizes that maybe his mother was right and they are reverting to old behavior, "We gotta be ready in an hour."

"Oh, I'm always ready," Nate assures them.

Brooke chuckles, "Why didn't you bring Spencer with you?"

Nate shrugs, "She has a thing this weekend. She'll get here tomorrow for the wedding." he says offhand, "Remember—stag party tonight," he adds as he closes the door. "Later, bro."

**-xx-**

Dan Scott appears to have spared no change for his little girl's big day. They had the largest hall reserved for the night, the most expensive champagne was being poured freely and there's an open bar so everyone can get comfortably drunk.

Peyton rocks a strapless CoB dress that makes her eyes look fiercely green. Matt wears a matching tie and stands dutifully next to her as they greet all the important guests before heading inside and taking a seat at the wedding party table.

Peyton and Matt sit at the head of the table. Logan Echolls, the best man, sits to Matt's right with Veronica Mars as his lovely date. Next to Peyton sits Lindsay James, the maid of honor, sans Owen who was stuck training with the Steelers. Haley, Nate, Brooke and Lucas round up the table.

The friends drink champagne and laugh and forget all their worries and just enjoy the evening they have together. It's been a while since they've all been in the same room.

"Okay, nothing was worse than the unholy trinity that formed when Veronica moved in with Rae and Brooke!" Logan declares amidst a fit of laughter at the table.

Veronica slaps his arm, "We were_ not_ that bad!" she squeals.

"Please!" Haley pipes in, "I used to be relieved because I figured Ronnie would reign them in, but you three just wreaked more havoc than ever!"

Brooke and Veronica exchange looks and laugh, dropping a kiss on their respective boy's cheek.

"Ya'll were crazy with the drama," Peyton says, sipping her glass, "Linds and I were always pretty tame roommates—at least when she was around 'cause most of the time she spent at the Sigma Chi house, prancing around in Owen's football jersey."

Lindsay grins, "I wouldn't talk," she says, "Rumor has it that you made quite a few appearances in Matt's football jersey at the Phi Delta house."

Matt grins excitedly at the memory, "You do look pretty good in my shirt."

"Oy, oy!" pipe in Luke and Nate, "Kill that talk, dude!" To this day, they did not want to know about that part of their baby sister's life.

Peyton just smiles and pecks Matt's lips, "More people have arrived, babe," she says, "We should go make the rounds before the band starts up."

The guest list is pretty mixed. Matt's fraternity brothers take up two entire tables and they seriously clash with Dan and Karen's list of sponsors and political acquaintances. T.J. and Doug Hammond show up late along with Susan Berg in representation of their mother, the Secretary of State.

"Hey, speaking of, who's playing tonight?" asks Lucas.

Lindsay answers, "I don't really know. Peyton and Matt got to handle the entertainment, but they wanted to surprise each other. Pey handled the dinner and Matt handled the wedding reception."

"Of course entertainment's bound to be the only thing the 'rents don't control. I mean, Peewee hates parties," Nate declares, "Specially parties like this. Nah, _this_," he gestures around the grand hall, "This has Dan Scott's signature written all over it."

Haley nods in agreement. She'd grown up at these events, always acting as Lucas's go-to date because he never took easy lays to family functions. "C'mon, it's not that bad." she says, "We could all use a distraction right now."

"Hey, is Jake not coming?" asks Logan.

Haley shakes her head, "No, he's still in the middle of the move, and dealing with helping Dexter settle down into the city. You know how it is."

Veronica smiles sympathetically, "Did he get the flowers we sent?"

Logan quirks his eyebrow, "We sent flowers?"

Veronica rolls her eyes, pecks his lips, "What would you do without me?"

"I'd rather not think about it, sugarplum." Logan grins.

Clay arrives late, a gorgeous blonde on his arm, "Sorry I'm late, guys," he greets, "Uh, which one's my table?"

Brooke narrows her eyes, "Hanna?"

Hanna Marin smiles somewhat shyly, "Hi, Ms. Davis," she says with a small wave.

Clay can sense Brooke's glare on him. "Hey, gorgeous, why don't you go grab us some champagne, huh?" he offers, "I'll meet ya at the table." Once Hanna's gone, he turns to Brooke, "Do not go off on me. I did not hit on her. Nate set us up. Go off on him." he clarifies before heading towards the table where he spots Duke Orsino and Tim Riggins.

"You set them up?" Brooke asks, "You know my no-employees-sleeping-with-Clay rule! It's practically a sexual harassment claim waiting to happen. Did you forget how Millicent quit after Clay de-virginized her and then forgot her name?"

All the guys chuckle at the memory while the girls glare at them.

Haley's eyes widen, "Is _that_ why Millicent quit so suddenly?" she asks, clearly surprised.

"So _not_ funny." Brooke says, "She was a great assistant."

"But if she hadn't quit, you would've never gotten Nora, and she's amazing, too!" defends Nate, "Hanna is Spencer's roommate. Clay wanted a date. It was just an easy set-up. Relax."

Lucas kisses the side of Brooke's head, "Yeah, babe," he says, "No work this weekend. Just relax."

"_Cheers_ to that!" Nate pipes in, clinking his glass against his brother's, "Oy, check it out. Looks like the show's starting."

Chris Keller takes the stage with Mia Catalano and the band, the pair strap on their guitars and step up the mikes.

"Good evening, everyone," Mia greets, "We're here tonight to celebrate a very special couple, and two very special friends."

"Yeah, not to mention the most kick-ass producer in the recording industry," Chris Keller pipes in, "Curly, this one's for you and the hubby. Much love, babe." The pair start in on a cover of He Is We's '_All About Us._'

Peyton drags Matt up for a dance, attempts to teach him to properly lead her around the dance floor. She merely laughs as he continues to try to avoid stepping on her feet.

Logan grins his most enticing grin, "How about a dance?" he tempts before leading Veronica out onto the dance floor.

"Linds," Nate smirks, "We're both stag tonight. How 'bout it?" Lindsay reluctantly agrees to one dance."

Lucas doesn't even ask, he merely stands up and reaches for Brooke's hand, "Shall we?"

"What makes you think I want to dance?" Brooke asks teasingly.

"Well, I know my woman," Lucas says, "Besides, when do you _not_ want to dance?"

_'Cause lovers dance when they're feeling in love_

_Starlight's shinning, it's all about us_

_It's a-a-all about u-u-us!_

_And every heart in the room will melt_

_This is a feeling I've never felt_

_But it's all about us_

"Haley James."

Haley whirls around to meet the once familiar ought-to-be illegal grin, "Julian Baker." she replies with a surprised tone.

Julian grins once more, extends a hand out, "How about a dance, Hales?" he asks, "For old times' sake."

Haley hesitates for a beat before taking his hand, "Sure," she decides, "Why the hell not,"


	13. State of the Unions

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the Mac in which I wrote this on…**

* * *

**Breakin' All The Rules**

State of the Unions

"Believe in a love that is being stored up for you like an inheritance, and have faith that in this love there is a strength and a blessing so large that you can travel as far as you wish without having to step outside it."  
―Rainer Maria Rilke

******-xx-**

Brooke and Lucas stand by the bar waiting for their drinks.

"Enough," Lucas says, snatching the phone away from the brunette, "You're cut off. Four calls to Rae is the limit, cheery. You know she can handle Jax for the weekend."

Brooke pouts, "Fine!" she says, "You suck, by the way."

Lucas cuts his eyes towards the dance floor once more, "No,_ that_ douche sucks," he amends, "Why is he even here? And how long is that gonna go on for? They've been dancing forever!"

Brooke sneaks a peek towards the dance-floor where Julian Baker sways with Haley along to the beat of an old Beatles cover. "Chill out, Luke," she says, "They've danced, like, two songs. And Hales is single now. She can do whatever she wants."

"Oh, come on!" Lucas protests, "Are you telling me you like the guy?"

Brooke remembers Julian Baker somewhat fondly. He's Scruffy, the guy with the ought-to-be-illegal grin who'd played her shrink one night at a bar. The guy who might've ended up with Haley had she not gotten back together with Jake when they were seventeen years old. "I'm telling you it's none of your business." She clarifies. "Let Haley _be_." She adds as Veronica Mars pulls her away.

Haley sways along, letting Julian take the lead as they dance. She's surprised at how comfortable this is even as she feels Lucas's accusing gaze on them. "So how'd you score an invite?" she asks, though she knows how far he's come from the kid who used to worship at the altar of Tarantino and Scorsese and Coppola; Julian Baker is now a renowned movie director with some very impressive credentials to his name.

"I moved to L.A. to work for a while, but I kept in touch with Keller, and when Peyton signed him to her label we all met up again. The Three Musketeers together again." Julian explains, then grins, "And how've you been, Haley James? Last time I saw you, you were knocked up. How'd it all turn out?"

Haley smiles, "Pretty amazing, actually. Emma is six now, and she is quite possibly the smartest little girl in the world." she says with a note of maternal pride, "And Jake is back at the city. Uh, we're divorced now, actually."

Julian kinks his eyebrows, "Really?" he asks, "And here I thought Jake Jaglieski was the love of your life." He doesn't say it to be mean or to gloat, but as a completely matter-of-fact statement. He can't deny he's curious as to why she didn't get her happy ending. That had been the entire reason he'd walked away from her all those years ago: he figured Jake would make her happy.

"He was. And he always will be." Haley answers honestly, "We just...couldn't make it work in the end." She shrugs, "But even if it's over, that doesn't erase our history. Jake is still the love of my life. That's never going to change. I've learned there's different kinds of love in life."

Julian cracks a grin, "Hmm, hard for a guy to compete with that."

Haley rolls her eyes, "I wasn't aware you were interested."

"How could I not be?"

The song ends and Julian's hands drop from Haley's waist, then they both clap politely along with the rest of the dancers.

Julian reaches for Haley's hand and presses a soft kiss to her knuckles, "Thanks for the dance, Hales." he says warmly. "You look amazing, as always, darling."

"That looks like trouble." Logan Echolls announces, taking a seat next to Lucas. "I thought we'd gotten rid of this douche."

Lucas smiles—_finally_ someone agrees with him! "I know, right," he replies, "I can't believe Peyton invited him to this. I mean, Jake was supposed to be here, too. That would've turned out great! What the hell was she thinking?"

"I was thinking that Julian is one of my best friends, and that we're all older now, certainly above petty rivalries from years past." Answers Peyton when she pops up behind them, "Now come on, Mom and Dad want us all for a family picture, and then we can call it a night."

Logan smirks, "And then stag night shall commence!" he proclaims with an unwarranted seriousness.

**-xx-**

There's a big-ass rented van parked outside the reception hall and a horde of guys in matching outfits standing around it.

Peyton walks outside surrounded by a horde of girls linking their arms amidst a fit of giggles: Lindsay, Haley, Veronica, Bevin, Caroline, Mia, and even Hanna got an invite to tag along for the bachelorette party.

Brooke walks behind them, Luke's arm thrown around her shoulders and their fingers intertwined.

"C'mon! What's the hold-up?" calls out Nate. The guys are all lined up behind Matt—Nate, Skills, Tim, Duke, Logan, Clay, Dick—all wearing identical outfits.

Lucas kisses the side of Brooke's head, "I'm coming," he says, "Just chill out."

Brooke laughs, "Now, honey, I don't mind body shots and lap dances, but no hooking up with randoms," she instructs teasingly as she straightens the collar of his polo and then pecks his lips.

Lucas nods, "Yes, ma'am," he grins.

"And remember," adds in Lindsay, "You're not the only ones partying tonight!"

The girls break out in loud cheers and whoops as Lindsay places a cheap light-up tiara on Peyton's head. Then ones with boyfriends presents say goodbye for the night, and Hanna warns Nate that she "sees all and tells Spencer everything" to which Nate swears he'll behave.

Matt looks ridiculously uncomfortable as the guys pull him into the van, and it's almost like they're kidnapping him. Peyton waves him goodbye, "Have fun, baby!" she calls out as they drive off.

"Make good choices!" adds Veronica.

"According to Skills, they're meeting up with the rest of the Phis at some bar." informs Haley, "If I were you, I'd cross my fingers that the merry band of brothers bring him back in one piece for the wedding tomorrow."

They all laugh at that, even thought there's a certain truth to it, too. "Okay, the party bus is here!" announces Mia, and then they all climb in and drive off in the opposite direction.

**-xx-**

The guys are pilled up in the back of the van, Duke Orsino at the wheel and Skills Taylor riding shotgun, fiddling with the radio.

Dick Casablancas and Tim Riggins start handing out Keystones from a cooler, determined to get everyone buzzed before they arrive at the first bar. Nate has mapped the night out, driving all the way down to Charlotte for the party, and then racing back to make it in time for the wedding.

Lucas takes a long pull from his beer, crushing the empty can when he's finished, "Dude, you sure we should be letting Orsino drive?"

"Don't sweat it," Nate replies with a smirk, "I got us fully covered—got 'walk-away' insurance for the van. Tonight is no worries!"

Matt sips his can slowly, determined not to drink too much tonight, "Guys, I'm not sure this is such a good idea," he starts, "I mean, what if we don't make it back in time? Pey's gonna kill me."

"Mattie, you worry too much," Logan declares, throwing an arm around his shoulders, "Look, we've got your back, all right?"

Tim pushes him to chug down half his beer and then punches his shoulder, "You gotta toughen up, Seven," he says, "'Cause tonight we're doing it up old school style."

Clay smirks, "Are we there yet?"

**-xx-**

The new Beyoncé song is blaring from the bus's stereo, Peyton Scott is sitting on the edge of the sunroof, a bottle of Boone's Farm in hand, and singing her off-key heart out.

"Hey, bride, where we headed first?" asks Lindsey, popping up next to Peyton. "Booze or strippers?"

"I vote booze!" calls out Haley, preferring to get a little tipsy before having to slip ones into some random guy's underwear.

The girls waltz into the 24-hour liquor store like they own it, their short dresses swaying along with then as they bounce from aisle to aisle, stocking up on enough alcohol to last them for a month.

"Hey, check it out," comments Hanna, pulling down a table, "Beer pong!"

"Well, I say we turn this into Tequila-Pong, and see who's really got cojones of steel in this bus," Mia suggests seriously, raising two bottles of José Cuervo and waving them around, "C'mon, let's go!"

Brooke smirks, "Okay, but I warn you, I kick ass at this game."

"And she taught me everything she knows." adds Veronica, high-fiving her former roommate. "So you all get ready to drink a serious amount of shots."

"Line 'em up!" claps Lindsey.

Peyton cheers, "Loser pays for lap dances!"

**-xx-**

The other members of Phi Delta: Blossom, Polar Bear, Slam, Sam, Smash and Credit had joined the gang at the bar as well.

The guys immediately take over the little no-name bar, ordering enough Irish Car Bombs to max out three credit cards until the bartender tells them they're cut off.

As fate would have it, there's a bachelorette party there as well and the guys immediately fall in with the band of women, buying flaming shots and pitchers of beer all around. It's after Duke manages to hook up with two of the bridesmaids in the bathroom stall that the bouncer decides to toss them out on their asses.

"Oi, come on!" Nate protests when the BouncerDouche continues to tell them they need to go, "It's a party. Things happen."

It goes down fast: BouncerDouche's backup arrives and they continue to argue with Nate and the guys. It's never quite clear what the guys say that sends Clay off, but he rears back and loads his arm, landing a tight right cross against BouncerDouche's jaw. It's a serious, angry punch that lands BouncerDouche on his ass.

BouncerDouche's Buddies don't waste a second and the big one responds by slamming a fist into Clay's gut. _Hard_.

"Oh, fuckin' hell," Nate mutters, knowing that this is gonna get messy. But what can you do? Bros don't abandon bros.

At this point the random girls from the bachelorette party arrive at the fight and all hell breaks loose: screaming, pushing, crying, hair-pulling, more pushing, a couple of random punches. The guys are pretty much divied up in three groups: those too wasted to fight, those who want to land a couple of good punches, and those who want to break off the fight and get the fuck out of there.

Lucas jumps in to cover Nate and Clay. Logan, Tim and Duke keep swinging blind. Matt tries to break the fight and gets knocked flat on his ass. They're not quite sure who manages to pull them out of the bar in one piece, but after Nate and Clay knock out two more dudes, they all make a run for the van.

**-xx-**

After having owned the strip club and having gained the attention of every dancer, the girls are driving around town while they finish off the liquor before calling it a night. Lindsey is passed out on one of the couches while Brooke, Peyton and Veronica grill Haley.

"It was a _dance_," Haley defends, "The way you're saying it, it sounds like I was mounting him on one of the dinner tables."

"A _slow_ dance," clarifies Veronica, "Two dances to be exact. And he had that glimmer in his eyes."

Brooke nods in agreement, "Fess up, Hales," she says, "What did you two talk about?"

"Nothing, really," Haley answers, "We caught up briefly and then the song ended and that was that."

Peyton chuckles, "Hales, it's not like he's been pinning after you for the last few years, but you're definitely the one that got away." she says seriously, "He cares about you. I don't think he ever stopped."

"Okay, I want you to know I totally respect your choices, and I am not picking sides here, but I gotta ask: how does Jake fit into this?" Brooke asks the question no one has yet verbalized, "If at all."

Haley shrugs, "He doesn't. We're divorced. And there was a moment when..." she shakes her head, "But it passed. And I'm not going to date Julian Baker again. It was just a dance."

The looks exchanged by Brooke and Veronica doesn't go unnoticed by either Haley or Peyton, but neither pushes the subject further.

"Hey, how're you and Luke doing?" asks Veronica in a thinly veiled attempt to change the subject.

Brooke smiles automatically, "Amazing, actually," she says, "He's in the process of moving in, and he's amazing with Jax. I think we're settling down just fine this time around."

"Hey, speaking of settling down, are you ever gonna accept any of Logan's numerous marriage proposals?" pipes in Peyton.

Brooke's eyes widen, "Loge proposed!" she squeals, "You never told me that!"

"That's because Logan has proposed, like, six times now and Ronnie still refuses to say yes." adds Haley, "Don't look so surprised, Jake gossips, too."

Veronica rolls her eyes, "Okay, there haven't been _six proposals_. There have only been 4, and one of them came after a massive amount of Sake Bombs so that one doesn't really count." she defends, "Besides, we have an arrangement. We're in love, we're committed, we're serious, but we both need to settle down into the rest of our lives before we can settle down into marriage. C'mon, B., back me up here." she pleads, recalling how marriage had seemed like an unnecessary hassle to twenty-year-old Brooke Davis.

"I don't know," Brooke shrugs, "I don't really thing settling down professionally and settling down personally are mutually exclusive anymore. You can grow together, work towards what you want as a couple."

"Oh, I wholeheartedly concur," says Peyton with a silly smile.

"Aaaw!" Haley coos, "All my girls are _finally_ growing up!"

**-xx-**

The trip to the strip club is far tamer than the bar fight.

The guys pass Matt around and tie him to a chair so he can get an exclusive lap dance from Cherry Leather-Bomb.

They leave when Dick gets slapped by one of the dancers and head towards the hotel were most of the guys are staying to finish out the night drinking and playing poker.

Lucas brings Clay a bottle of Jack Daniels and hands it over, taking a seat across from him.

Clay is sitting on the edge of the balcony, glancing at the starry night, "Why are you being nice to me?" he asks, "You hate me."

Lucas shrugs, "I used to." he says matter-of-factly, "But Brooke loves you. And she's not herself without you. I, uh, I didn't use to get that. In fact, I kind of resented it. But then I realized what you guys have, it's like me with Hales. Or even Nate with Rachel. We all work infinitely better when we're together rather than when we're apart. I'm lucky to have had Haley as my best friend for pretty much my entire life. I'm happy Brooke's had you, too."

"This mean we're friends now?" Clay smirks, extends a fist to Lucas.

"Sure. Friends." Lucas replies, bumping his own fist against Clay's, "Or something like that." The pair chuckles, "Any idea where the groom is?"

Clay glances around, "I think he escaped for a while," he offers, "Matt didn't quite appreciate being forced into rubbing up against a stripper while we all hollered for him to go for it and live up his last night of freedom. Dude is pretty whipped, I guess."

"Whipped's what you want when the guy is marrying your sister." Lucas shrugs, glances down to the courtyard and the pool. "Hey, there he is. I'm gonna go check on him."

Clay nods, "Later, bro."

Matt sits on the edge of the diving board, glancing down at the water distractedly. He grips the half-empty bottle of Stolichnaya that Clay had given him and considers drinking it. He's been avoiding hard-liquor all night, but as dawn approaches he feels like the vodka might steel his nerves a bit.

"Thinking about jumping?" Lucas asks from behind him, leaning against the diving board's railing.

Matt grins, "Maybe." he replies, "Water might sober me up a bit."

"Please, you had, like, 2 Irish Car Bombs, and a couple of beers," Lucas says, "You're fine. And you're marrying my baby sister, so you're also lucky."

"I'm well aware."

"Hey, how'd you propose?" Lucas asks, curious for ideas, "Peyt never told us."

Matt smiles, "Uh, we were in Dillon visiting my mom and grandmother," he starts, "And grandma got a little batty, and before I could step in, Pey just sat down with her and just talked her down real nice and gentle. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. When I asked her about it she said: 'Y'know it's no problem. I love grandma Saracen,' and kissed me quick and soft, kind of like a habit we'd been doing forever. That's when I realized that I wanted to be with her forever, couldn't imagine a moment when I'd want something different. So I took her to this secluded little clearing, and the sun was coming down over the lake, and I just got down on one knee and asked her to marry me."

Duke, Skills, Nate, Tim and Dick stumble out onto the pool area and start hooting and hollering when they spot Matt sitting atop the edge diving board.

"Jump, Sarancen!" — "Jump, Seven, do it! You _gotta_ jump!" yell out Duke and Tim before all four of them break out in a loud chant of "JUMP! JUMP! JUMP! JUMP!"

Matt lets out a resigned sigh, admiring the idiots he calls friends for a beat before taking a swig from the bottle of vodka and sliding off the board and into the cold, chlorinated pool water.

"Y'know, that was sweet and all, but I don't think that's the best way to propose to Brooke." pipes up Clay from behind Lucas. "You got a ring yet?"

Lucas blinks, pulls out the box from his coat pocket and tosses it over to Clay, "How'd you know, dude?"

"I'm a wise and knowledgable man," Clay says with his usual distinct air of cockiness, "And you'd be an idiot not to want to marry Dimples. Plus you got that look in your eye."

Lucas kinks his eyebrows, "You think she knows?"

"B.?" Clay asks, "Doubt it. She's kind of oblivious to the effect she has on you." he tosses him back the ring-box, "Good choice, by the way. That is definitely _the_ ring."

Lucas tucks it back into the safety of his pocket, "Yeah, Rae said the same thing. Good to know I can pick some things right."

"Rachel approves?" Clay asks, hands tucked in his khakis's pockets.

Lucas nods sharply, "She does." he says, "Do you?"

"As long as you make her happy," Clay replies easily.

Lucas grins, "That is the plan." he says, "It's all I really want."

**-xx-**

It's the wedding day.

Matt, Lucas, Nate and Logan stand together in a straight line, their tux shirts unbuttoned while Haley, Brooke, Lindsey and Veronica apply cover up to their respective shiners in an attempt to make them look presentable for the wedding pictures.

"I cannot _believe_ you idiots got into a bar fight," Haley comments as she finishes covering Matt's shiner.

Spencer walks into the room then, "Nate, oh my god—you all look amazing!—what the hell happened?—congratulations, Matt!" the words come out pushed together, a mixture of concern for Nate and happiness for his little sister on her big day.

"I'm fine, Princess," Nate says offhand, "Party got a little Animal House last night, but you should see the other guys." he grins and winces, the pain radiating from his bruised chin.

Lindsey takes the chance to pass the shiner-covering duties to Nate's girlfriend to go check on Peyton. "Lets hurry it up. Wedding starts in five."

**-xx-**

The wedding ceremony itself is simple.

Matt Saracen stands straight wearing the biggest grin ever with Logan, Nate and Lucas flanking his side.

Emma Jaglieski glides down the aisle strewing rose petals evenly along the floor. Lindsay, Haley and Brooke file down after her in their ebony bridesmaid dresses.

Peyton Scott walks down the aisle on Dan Scott's arm wearing a gorgeous wedding dress and a warm smile.

Brooke winks at Lucas as the couple start to exchange vows and Lucas grins back at her.

"Pey, I promise that you will never go a day without being loved as long as I'm alive." Matt says, his voice steadier than it's ever been before. "This is forever."

"Mattie, you are my partner, my lover and my best friend; you're my soul mate. I want to fall asleep next to you every night and wake up tangled up with you every morning." Peyton says equally sincere, "This is forever."

They're pronounced husband and wife, and they kiss and walk down the aisle as a married couple.

Brooke links arms with Lucas and follows them, she presses a kiss to his scruffy cheek, whispers, "I love you, broody," into his ear.

**-xx-**

The reception is more intimate than the wedding, friends and family only. It's the one part of the entire weekend that's for the couples's enjoyment rather than for the appearance of the perfect family moment.

"And now Mr. and Mrs. Saracen will share their first dance as husband and wife. Without further ado, I give you SafetySuit!"

The band starts to sing their song, and Matt leads Peyton out onto the dance floor more confident than ever.

Lucas waits a beat before leaning close to the brunette, his hand settling on the small of her back, "Dance with me, pretty girl," he asks softly. He reaches for her hand and they walk onto the dance floor hand in hand. He twirls her around slowly before pulling her close against his chest.

_You are my life, I don't deserve you. _

_But you love me just the same._

_And as the mirror says we're older, _

_I will not look the other way._

_You are my life, my love, my only. _

_And that's the one thing that won't change._

_And I will never stop trying._

_I will never stop watching as you leave._

_I will never stop losing my breath,_

_Every time I see you looking back at me._

_And I will never stop holding your hand._

_I will never stop opening your door._

_I will never stop choosing you, babe._

_I will never get used to you._

It's not like their usual dances were Brooke takes the lead and they show off because they're still the easy center of attention everywhere they go. They sway slowly to the music, Brooke settled comfortably against his chest and Lucas holding her close, his cheek resting gently atop her chocolate locks.

The rest of the rooms seems to melt around them, and they're the only people in the room. Lucas's hands feel warm against her bare skin, and just his body pressed against hers like this, not in a sexual way; just intimate. It feels like home. Lucas is her home.

The idea of this, of them together forever officially, feels good. It feels right. Like that's the way it was always meant to be and all the time they wasted trying to pretend any different was just them being cowardly idiots.


End file.
